


Keeper

by eurusholmmes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 41
Words: 153,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurusholmmes/pseuds/eurusholmmes
Summary: She was a Targaryen, heritage hidden from the people of Westeros and safely kept at the side of the Lannisters. She wasn’t supposed to have attachments, or fall in love, much less with the very same man who murdered her father.





	1. Playlist - Jaime and Rhaella

 

-  _Playlist -_

 • War of Hearts: Ruelle • 

• The Rains of Castamere • 

• Little Lion Man: Mumford and Sons • 

• Onward and Upward: Tommee Profitt • 

• Gloria Regali - Tommee Profitt • 

• I Love You - Billie Eilish • 

 


	2. Prologue - In The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular piece of fiction does not belong to me, with the exception of my take on my OC, Rhaella Targaryen. I have not read A Song of Ice and Fire, but I have done enough research that I may mix aspects of book canon with show canon. 
> 
> The prologue starts before the show as well. Happy reading!

• Rhaella Targaryen •

Living as a highborn had never been an easy task for those with the last name Targaryen. And what was worse? When you had a prophecy spoken over your future, for both yourself and a babe sister that has yet to be born. Rhaella had never believed in superstition, or prophecy, until Daenerys Stormborn came into the world wailing like the storm that broke outside the windows of Dragonstone.  

We're getting ahead of ourselves here. Let's explain the context, firstly, of the woman you are about to meet. Rhaella Targaryen, second of her name, Protector of the Innocent and the Unseen. The Keeper of Dragons. A girl born into a high family with expectations burdening her shoulders from the moment she greeted the world with silver hair and the brightest eyes any Targaryen had ever seen. 

_"We will call you Rhaella. A gentle hearted woman with more compassion then anyone in the Seven Kingdoms can fathom. And when the time comes for you to be fierce, to be braver then you want to be, the blood of the Dragon will course through your veins. That is when you will rise from the fire and become Rhaella of House Targaryen."_

Those words were never uttered again, but both her mother and father watched them play before their eyes as their eldest daughter aged with grace. It wasn't until she was eight years old that her path came across that of the eldest Lannister, a boy of nine named Jaime. 

Rushing through the halls toward her chamber with books piled in her arms, Rhaella shrieked as she nearly collided with Grand Maester Pycelle. He had been the one teaching her, Jaime and Cersei to read and write since they were young children. She and Cersei had excelled and had moved onto the Septa, but Jaime had been struck with enormous difficulty when it came to pronouncing and reading each word correctly.

"Ah, my Lady, I was just coming to look for you." He greeted. "Young Jaime has had trouble with todays lessons, and it was the idea of his and your father to allow your help in this matter. Would you care to accompany me?" 

"As you wish, Grand Maester." 

Rhaella scurried through the halls on the feet of her Maester and stopped inside the doorway of Jaime Lannister's chamber that he shared with his twin sister, Cersei. Cersei had made it more then clear since the first time they'd met as children that she held nothing but contempt and resentment for Rhaella because she held a stronger claim to the Iron Throne then those of House Lannister. 

Jaime, however, was nothing like his twin. He bore bright green eyes like the others of his family, and golden locks that were nearly always unkempt when she saw him. He wore the Lannister sigil on his chest and scrunched his nose in frustration when he tried to sound out each individual syllable on the pages in front of him. 

"Young Jaime, this is Rhaella Targaryen. She's the daughter of King Aerys, and she will assist you in learning how to read the words on those pages." Grand Maester motioned to the table the eldest Lannister sat at with a wave of his arm. "My dear, if you may. I will return momentarily." 

Jaime was fairly compliant when she began to individually sound out each word on the page, and after gentle coaxing, she finally managed to have him read the first few sentences on the page without aid. And the way he smiled was well worth the effort, for about five minutes. His frustration grew with the larger words that were harder to pronounce and Jaime eventually cast the book across his chambers. 

The first time, Rhaella fled before the Maester could return. Jaime apologized profusely the next time they met, and a kinship was formed between the daughter of Aerys Targaryen and the son of Tywin Lannister. 

“Doing this, feeling this weak.. my father says this isn’t what a Lannister is! We are.. we are the lion! We aren’t supposed to feel like this!” 

Rhaella gently shut the book before the eldest Lannister son and reached across the table until her hands were covering his own. His eyes immediately snapped up to meet her own, and she watched the tension in his shoulders recede and his expression soften. “Right now, you aren’t a Lannister. I’m not a Targaryen, and we aren’t royalty. Right now I’m Rhaella, and you are Jaime. My best friend Jaime.” 

Jealousy permeated the halls of the Red Keep as the years passed on and Cersei Lannister watched her brother become attached to another girl who was not her. While she and Jaime had been inseperable from birth until young children, introducing Rhaella to her brother had been a thorn in her side from the day she'd stepped into their chambers. She had not known at the time the future she held with Rhaella Targaryen, the way that the lion would work to tear the dragon to pieces and eradicate the memory of The Dragons Keeper. 

And yet those around them watched on to see how their children, the Lannisters and the Targaryens, would fair in the company of one another. 

***

_- Rhaella, age 13 -_

It had been her mother who had accompanied her to the appointment with the Maester. Having been over a month since her last moon blood, they'd begun to grow concerned with Rhaella being able to carry a potential heir for whatever prince or Lord she was to be married to. 

Targaryen tradition was to marry a brother or sister to keep the bloodlines pure. Almost as soon as Rhaegar had been made known of this, he'd vehemently refused to marry his sister and had somehow convinced their father to drop the subject. Now, ever the loyal brother, he had tried his hardest to attend much to the bemusement of his younger sister. 

"I am your older brother!" He exclaimed, gripping her shoulders and shaking them roughly. Rhaegar had never been anything but gentle since they were babes. Had protected her from cruelty, shielded her from the men who wished to do her harm even at such a young age. It would've been absurd to think he'd ever do anything remotely harsh to her. "It's my job to make sure you're okay!" 

"You are the best sibling a girl could ask for," She replied softly as she pressed the whisper of a kiss upon his cheek. "But if I have to listen to you whine and shiver at the thought of a woman bleeding, I might smack you so hard you'll see stars." Rhaegar did have the softer heart of the Targaryen children. Young Viserys was sitting low in their mothers womb, less then a month away from being born, and yet her focus was more on the brother in front of her then the one who had yet to come into the world. 

He had a heart with a desire to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Maybe that was where she'd got it from. 

"I'm going to be fine, Rhaegar. Have you ever known me to not be okay?" 

Then Rhaella heard the words, _"I believe she has been struck with infertility."_  come from the Grand Maester himself, and her entire world caved in around her. She would bore no heir. She would have no children, wed no highborn. A disgrace to the Targaryen name. 

The moment she stepped outside the Maesters chambers, Rhaella broke down in her brothers arms and wept for the gift she'd never come to have. 

Around the corner and hidden from sight, Cersei Lannister smiled. 

_\- Rhaella, age 15 -_

"I wanted to thank you for protecting Tyrion from Cersei today. There are so few who would stoop to such a level as to do so for my younger brother." 

Jaime had been speaking his thanks for her wings that often shielded his brother from harm since Tyrion had been born. Many had mourned the loss of Queen Johanna - Tywins late wife - when the dwarf had been born in such a way that had torn her from the inside out. 

"You're just trying to catch me off guard so you can slam that sword into my chest, you insufferable-" Rhaella gasped as Jaime surged forward with his training blade and nearly collided with her chest, had it not been for her quick reflexes that cast her out of harms way. Aerys had suggested upon her fourteenth name-day that Jaime began training her in the art of swordplay, seeing as her elder brother Rhaegar was far too preoccupied to be involved in such a matter as he attended to his duties as the Heir to the Iron Throne. "You fool-" 

"That was the whole point, Princess." Jaime jeered. The way he smiled at her was almost like his childhood self as she successfully blocked each one of his incoming strikes with her own blade, pivoted on her heel and jammed her foot so hard into the back of his knee that he fell on his back against the cobblestones. "I think you have a fetish for this." 

Rhaella snickered as she pressed her knee into his chest and lay the dull edge of her blade against the column of his throat. "For making you look like an idiot? That's my whole reason for living." Neither of them spoke as Jaimes chest heaved beneath the pressure of her knee, green eyes reflecting the rays of the sun held high overhead in the otherwise clear sky. She'd been looking at him for seven years, but she'd never really taken the time to  _look_  at him. He was utterly breathtaking. "Jaime-" 

"I have a present for you.'' He rolled out from beneath her and made way to his pack that sat by the rocks, rifling through its contents until he produced an item wrapped in red silk from the Red Keep. "I assume your father has told you that I've been knighted and initiated into the Kingsguard." 

It had been Rhaegar to inform her of Jaimes accomplishment. Aerys had never really been much of a father to her in the years following her diagnosis of infertility, and had acted as more of an advisor when she was in need of counseling. Since her mother often made plans to leave Kings Landing every several months to remove her children from the infection that was the city, she often took them to the Bear Islands after an agreement had been made between the Targaryens and the Mormonts. That was where she'd met Jorah - who had been more of a father to her in the short time she'd known him then her father had been most of her life. 

"Unfortunately, yes. I do know about your initiation." Rhaegar had been the one to tell her, and it broken her heart even further then the looks of pity the people of Kings Landing cast her. "So much for ever having a relationship with one other person besides my brother-" 

"There's always Cersei." 

That was enough to earn a skeptically curved eyebrow. "Cersei? The same girl who has hated me since the day I met you? The same girl who has made every single thing we may share in common into a competition? You're kidding right?" 

"She'll learn to love you in time, just as I have." Jaime whispered as he held the item out in outstretched arms. He watched her gaze soften as she slowly unrolled the Lannister silk and produced the most beautiful weapon she'd ever seen - a Valyrian steel dagger - with a hilt as red as the dragons of her House sigil. "A parting gift for the best woman and the best of friends. Every fine blade has a name." 

Jaime was enthralled at the way she so effortlessly twirled the blade through her fingers, like it was created to be held by her. "And what is this ones name?" 

" _Keeper._ " 

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as their eyes locked. "And is there a reason why it's called Keeper, of all things?" Rhaella questioned. Jaime took a step forward and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. Despite his rather intimate relationship with Cersei, being in Rhaellas presence had always unveiled the best parts of himself. The characteristics that made him a better man. 

"I have heard whispers of the Prophecy spoken over you when we were children. You and the sister that has yet to be born. They call her  _The Mother of Dragons_  and you  _The Dragons Keeper_. You aren't just that, though. You've been a Keeper of those unseen by highborns for several years. You have a tender heart, a sound mind, and I feel there is no one better to be the Keeper of my heart." 

Her hand flew to her mouth as tears sprung to her eyes. "No, no-" Rhaella gripped his shirt with white fingers and urged him closer. "Do not make such confessions before you are to part from me, Jaime Lannister. It's  _cruel_." 

Jaime gripped her chin with his index finger and his thumb to lift her head enough to meet her eyes. Eyes so deep and so blue he was sure he would find it a satisfactory death to drown in them. "It is your Keeper. Allow that blade to keep you safe, to protect you from those who do you wrong." Her heart thrummed wildly as his hands slid down to hover over her waist. "Your brother will not be able to protect you forever." 

She remembered that moment even years later. The touch of his forehead resting against hers, the way his breath fanned across her skin, his reluctance to touch the disgraced Targaryen despite how he felt about her. She was not his sister. Rhaella was something different, something better, and here he was about to let her slip from his fingers. 

"I don't need my brother to protect me." 

_\- Rhaella, age 16 -_

[AN: I cannot for the life of me find the age that Jaime was whenever he killed Aerys, so we're gonna say he's 17 here / I just found out Rhaegar was twenty four when he died, so for sake of this canon, Rhaella will be sixteen to keep the year age gap with Jaime and Rhaegar will be  **twenty one** ] 

"Have you not heard what they say of your brother, child? Barely a man himself and he's kidnapped Lyanna Stark. They say he's raped her and snatched her away from Robert Baratheon." 

Rhaegar was gone. She hadn't seen him or heard from him in weeks. Her father had been teetering on the brink of insanity and a newfound fascination with the concept of wildfire. Aerys had sent her mother, barely pregnant with Daenerys, along to Dragonstone with Viserys to keep them safe from harm. She'd whispered blessings over the swell of her stomach before they'd armored her and taken her family away.

Rhaella wasn't stupid, nor a fool. She'd paid careful mind of her father since Jaime had been made a part of the Kingsguard, and it had only taken her a short amount of time to see that Jaime was a pawn for her father. Aerys knew how Jaime cared for his daughter, and so he forced her to remain behind in defense of the Red Keep as a way to test Jaime. 

"I've sent a messenger with a letter for Aerys to make terms with the attackers." Jaime breezed past her with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword while she remained stiff behind him, unsure of what to say. The hilt of Blackfyre thrummed beneath her grasps as her eyes surveyed King's Landing, soon to be sacked by his father. "I expect to receive a response-" 

Rhaella drew her blade as a messenger appeared before them clutching the reply from her father. Jaime unrolled the scroll and hastily read the reply. She didn't miss the way the color drained from his face or how his fingers wrapped tighter around his blade when he was finished reading it. 

"What did it say?" 

He told her half the truth. Rhaella had always wondered what had drained his courage so quickly, but he'd never felt it right to tell her what was written across the bottom of the scroll. What had struck Jaime to the very core of himself. 

"He wants me to bring my father's head into the Great Hall." Jaime turned towards the doors to the Keep and drew his blade. "Rhaella, do you trust me?" 

Rhaella remained still behind him, hand curled around Blackfyre and expression contorted by fear of what he was about to do in defense of the city. "Of course I do, Jaime! This isn't about you and me anymore-" She gripped the shoulder of his armor and spun him around to meet the tip of her blade inches from his face. "This is about the future of my House, the future of this city! There isn't time for reckless decisions!" 

The Lannister army marched on below. Arrows flew, blood spilled onto the stones, and weapons remained discarded along with the corpses of those they belonged to. The armies still marched on in spite of the chaos that unfolded in the depths of Kings Landing. 

"Rhaella, allow me this one time to protect you. Stay out here. Defend the Keep." And before she could dispute a coherent argument, Jaime Lannister disappeared inside the doors to the Red Keep with the intent of meeting her father in the Great Hall. 

She'd heard the news. Rhaegar was dead. Barely two-and-twenty and slaughtered on the banks of the Trident by the Usurper. Her mother Rhaella was likely not too far behind with the eventual birth of her sister, who had already been prophesied over long before her conception. Given the present circumstances, she wasn't sure if meeting Daenerys would ever be a possibility. It would be a miracle if Aerys lived through the night. Her aunts and uncles were dead. Everyone was dead. She could only hope Daenerys and Viserys were blessed with a long life lived in Essos. 

The last Targaryen. 

Her impulses broke through the front doors and sprinted to the doors of the Great Hall where she could the words that would haunt her and Jaime forever, "Burn them all!" before the sound of a blade piercing flesh echoed through the hall. 

Everything moved in slow motion from the moment she opened the door. She saw the tip of his blade pierce her fathers back and slit her fathers throat, and she saw the blood that spilled down the steps that lead to the Iron Throne. The way Jaimes eyes widened with fear and his sword clattered to the ground upon realizing that she had seen it. She had seen exactly what he hadn't wanted her to see. 

Tywin and his forces were close to arriving, and time was running out for the both of them.

Blackfyre dragged across the ground as she neared the Iron Throne, far too intimidated to step into the stain of her fathers blood and far too fearful to gaze upon his corpse. Jaime had yet to speak, and so she uttered the very word that would mark the beginning of his new identity; both with the people of Westeros and herself. 

_"Kingslayer."_

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

**So, I am absolutely thrilled to have published this prologue! Is there anything you might want to see more of? Rhaegar and Rhaella as children? Why are Daenerys and Rhaella the ones being prophesied over? Does Jorah Mormont hold significance in Rhaellas life?**

**Where will Jaime and Rhaella go from here?**

**A comment means the world, as does any type of feedback. It gives me greater incentive to write this story that I've desperately come to love!**


	3. A Different Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella learns what it means to be a different woman, and Jaime soon forgets about the girl he tried so hard to save.

_"Kingslayer."_

Rhaella decided she hated House Lannister when Jaime hastily sent her away to her chambers after only moments had passed since he cut her father down at the foot of the throne. He hadn't even bothered to give her a moment to mourn the man who had never really been a father to begin with, and had sent for someone who would cut and dye her hair while he tended to the matter of Robert Baratheon. Her brothers memory cast aside without even having a chance to realize Rhaegar was gone. 

_"Oathbreaker."_

The same Robert Baratheon who had gutted her eldest brother at the Battle of the Trident. She'd hate him too for as long as she lived under this roof.

The memory of House Targaryen was easily cut away with each snip of the scissors. She had despised short hair even as a young girl, but the quiet servant who had cut it had chopped it all the way up to her shoulders. What a waste. It took a considerable amount of time to dye it, and even after her vehement denial of dying her hair, Rhaella now sported the dark roots that reminded her of House Baratheon, or House Stark. At least she didn't bear the dark eyes with it.

_"Man without Honor."_

Then they took her name from her. The one thing she may have been proud of at a time - a legacy to uphold - and gave her Ella Mormont, distant cousin of House Mormont exiled from the Bear Islands for a treasonous crime they never spoke of. Her heart ached at the memory of Jorah, who she had seen just earlier that summer, before he'd been exiled for his involvement in the slave trade. He had been the one to speak blessings over her future in House Targaryen. Had woven tales of his time in battle and had loved her more fiercely then she could've asked for.

What a shame it had been so short lived.

As Rhaella gazed over her reflection in the mirror, she ran a finger over the crown of her head and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. War waged within her. She wanted to hate Jaime, to despise him for hiding her away like some relic on display, but he had risked everything to keep her alive - his loyalty, his devotion to his family, the blade that waited to kill her in the hands of Robert Baratheon. She should've and would've ended up like her brother if he hadn't acted so quickly.

But then his attention turned right back to Cersei the very day after he burst into her chambers and announced that Ella Mormont was to be his sisters new handmaiden. She dressed in the most regal gowns, attended the gatherings and tended to the matters of the new Queen of Westeros.

And yet she still hated Cersei Lannister.

 

***

Things became progressively worse when Cersei began bearing children. Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella; Carried by a Lannister and happened to look absolutely  _nothing_ like the father that everyone believed to have sired them. That was when the suspicions began. Suspicions of who really helped in the conception of the three most wonderful children that Rhaella had ever had the pleasure to be around. 

Cersei jeered at her from afar. Played with her babies and smiled when they put wet kisses all over her cheeks. There were times when other matters called for her attention and she left the three of them with her handmaiden, but even then Rhaella still remained jealous. Jealous that she would not be able to bear her own children to further the future of the House everyone seemed to despised. 

She envied her. 

But when Jaime wasn't present and Robert was whoring around, Cersei often came to her as a confidant. It was a strange thing after having spent so many years hating her, and then hating each other, but she rather enjoyed it for a short while. Having spoken to very few people since Aerys murder, it felt nice to be confided in. And sometimes Rhaella believed Cersei was being genuine. Sometimes she smiled when Jaime made himself known and had extremely short lived conversations with her. It made her long for the days he'd acknowledged her existence. 

His eyes were always set on Cersei. 

In those rare moments that she was well and truly alone, she dreamt of her most significant namedays. Most of the crowds in each one were indistinguishable, veiled in the reds and golds of House Lannister. Her stomach clenched at the sight, believing that she had fully sworn herself to an enemy house, until Rhaella reached the center of the room. It was always the same in every dream she had. 

There stood a young woman with silver hair almost akin to her own adorned in a silk dress, spinning to the rhythm of the music that echoed in the Great Hall. Once she spun fast enough, Rhaella could almost see the massive dragon wings that spread out behind her. It wasn't hard to realize that it was Daenerys. In all her splendor - silver hair and bright eyes - attracting the attention of the crowds before her, of which included who she believed to be Viserys. She could almost  _hear_ the sound of her voice, see the power she commanded over the people who stood before her. 

Jaime always lingered in the background. Sometimes he was just close enough for her to graze his arm with her fingertips, but he was always taken back into the crowd by a flash of blonde hair and a sinister smile. Too far to reach and too far gone to be saved. 

Rhaella starting giving up any hope that he'd cared for her at that point.  _Cersei_ became  _Your Grace_ , she didn't gripe about doing her daily tasks, and Jaime found himself gazing at just how frequently she'd begun smiling in the presence of other people. The commoners adored her. His children loved her. Tyrion admired her. His father thought she was the most devout servant he'd ever seen in the Red Keep and often commended her loyalty to House Lannister.  _If only he'd known the truth about who stood before him._

_***_

Jaime saw it more as the years went on. How dismal Rhaella appeared when she was alone, how her voice softened and she no longer sang while performing menial tasks. How devoid of hope she looked. Sometimes he wished he heard her song _more -_ he preferred Jenny of Oldstones - but then he realized that she didn't look at him anymore. She didn't  _see_ him as she had when they were young. No. Rhaella saw him as everyone else did.  _The Kingslayer._   

How he wished things were different. That he hadn't killed her father, hadn't hidden her away from the world and forced her to live another life. 

But she was alive. The girl who taught him to read, who never pushed him past his breaking point and had always treated him so  _softly_ _,_ almost like the way he craved to be loved, was still breathing. 

Jaime could deal with her hating him then. 

*** 

The rumors were spread before they even left Winterfell. Cersei hadn't felt her important enough to travel with them north, so she was left alone in the Red Keep for the first time in years. It was in her travels to Flea Bottom and the streets below that she began hearing them -  _the whispers -_ of what had occurred in Winterfell during their stay. How Brandon Stark had taken a mighty fall from a tower and remembered nothing that had happened beforehand. Most of the commoners who she came into contact with believed it had something to do with Cersei and Jaime. You know what they say - Once you hear something enough times, you begin to believe it. 

Rhaella couldn't see anything else. The very thought of it made her sick - That Jaime had very clearly exhibited feelings for her when they were younger, before everything had happened with her father, and had resorted to sleeping with his  _sister_ and siring her children. There was no other potential explanation as to why the three looked so much like Lannisters; Having been gifted the signature golden hair and cunning green eyes. 

  " _You are a good man, Jaime Lannister. The best I have ever known." She had said the very day that they'd come to defend the Red Keep. Rhaella hadn't seen the look of wonder in his expression or the way he stepped just a bit closer to her and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. "_ _Don't let the world corrupt you."_  

Lord Varys quietly informed her of what he'd heard about Daenerys in Essos as The War of The Five Kings waged on before her. Sometimes it became a rather useful skill to remain invisible to those of House Lannister - granting her the ability to sneak around the Red Keep undetected. It was how she often found herself in the villages below just as she and Rhaegar had done with Barristan Selmy years before, when they'd gone down to sing to the crowds. 

_Rhaegar and Rhaella Targaryen. The Last Dragon and The Dragons Keeper._

 "What a tale they would've told about the two of you." Varys took her hands and lightly clasped them, forcing a smile as she held the scroll between her fingers. Besides Jaime, the only ones who were aware of her real identity were Varys, Cersei, and Tyrion. She and Tyrion had become..  _kindred spirits_ , of sorts, until he learned what wine was and often departed for the brothels in his spare time. But when he was sober? They often held intelligent conversations and conversed over what literature they read that week. 

Cersei despised it, and that spurred them on even further. She almost never went a day without spending time with the youngest Lannister. 

Based off of what Varys had told her, Daenerys was sixteen and planning to be married to a Dothraki warlord by the name of  _Khal Drogo_ to obtain the army Viserys needed to take Robert Baratheon off the throne. "Are you well, Lady Targaryen?" 

  "I grow concerned for my sister." Rhaella whispered in reply. "She is barely a child, and yet my foolish baby brother wishes to marry her off to an infamous killer to gain.. what? The Iron Throne? We both know he'd never be able to hold it." 

Varys nodded in confirmation. He knew this to be true as well as she did. "I've often wondered why  _you_ never took your claim, my Lady. You do have the stronger one, and you would be able to hold that claim if you so desired. You are already widely loved by the people of the Capital and they aren't even aware of your true identity. You and your brother both were widely respected by the other houses in Westeros. Why should it be any different now?" 

Despite how grateful she was for Varys' information about the wellbeing of her baby sister, he had never come to quite know her as well as he had her father and brother. Aerys had been driven mad by numerous things over the years, but the catalyst that had  _really_ tipped him over the edge was the frequent miscarriages their mother had before being able to conceive Daenerys. Most of their bloodline had been forged through dynastic incestual marriages, but Rhaegar had been faithful to the love he held for his sister and refused. That was how he'd found himself betrothed to Elia Martell before having met Lyanna. 

Rhaegar had been the only Targaryen she knew of who was  _good._ The rest had been driven insane and the others were dead. She wouldn't be like the Targaryens of Old. Despised, loathed by the people, driven mad by loss and anguish and heartbreak and resorting to the use of dragon fire to destroy those who dared to even cross them. 

  "There's a quote. I'm not sure where I've heard it, but it's stuck in my mind since the first." She replied. "Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin and the whole world waits to see how it'll land. People have..  _expectations_ about my family, my House. I made a promise to myself that when the time comes for me to emerge from the dark that I will not be like the other Targaryens before me. I'm not my father, and I will never be my father." 

_But only the Gods know what Daenerys fate will hold._

Rhaella thanked Varys for the information and hurried back to the Keep as to avoid the scorn and inevitable wrath of Cersei. The dragon will only cower for so long before it is unleashed. 

***

She knew things were going to be chaotic when Robert Baratheon took his last breath and departed from the world. Cersei would now have no one left to control her, Joffrey would be the new King, and the torment Cersei had heightened since Jaime had gone to war would go on without his knowledge. 

The words rang clearly in her mind even as she attended to her tasks for the day. 

  "Shall we play a game, Dragon? I will make you a deal that even a disgraceful Targaryen cannot refuse." 

Rhaella had long since become immune to the poison that dripped with each word when Cersei spoke to her, so she replied, "I don't make deals with the likes of a lioness like  _you._ The lion cannot overcome the strength of the dragon." 

That was what she told herself despite the whispers of defeat in her mind, brought upon by years of living under Cerseis influence and torment. Her father would've been remarkably disappointed at how  _soft_ and  _vulnerable_ she'd become since living with the Lannisters. Targaryens didn't answer to the likes of Gods nor Men. 

  "Forget everything you have ever felt for my brother." Blood turned to ice in her veins as her eyes snapped upward to meet Cerseis. Her lips were turned upward in that proud smirk she often wore - mostly contemptuous when directed at her - as she took a sip of the wine glass poised in her hand. "Forget your hearts desire and I will not tell my son of your true heritage. I will not confess about the Targaryen that dwells within the halls of this Keep."

_Jaime will never be yours as long as she lives. They are two halves of one person._

Her mind always went back to that day on the cliffside when he'd gifted her with Keeper. The adoration evident in his eyes, the way he held her so reluctantly almost as if he were afraid she'd break beneath his touch. The  _pride_ in his smile when she'd commended him for being knighted by Ser Arthur Dayne and the despair in her eyes when he realized she'd seen him kill Aerys. 

There was a small part of her that believed he still felt that way about her. That Jaime Lannister, Golden Lion and Heir of Casterly Rock, was capable of feeling  _something_ for the girl he'd gone to great measures to save from Death. 

If he still felt such a way about her, he'd made no effort to show it. 

Joffrey took Ned Starks head. The world fell to its knees and the citizens of Kings Landing  _cheered_ when his corpse fell limp on the stage, and her eyes immediately snapped over to Sansa Stark. She'd brightly greeted the Stark girls and their father upon arriving to the Capital and set out upon making them feel welcome - much to the displeasure of Cersei - who seemed to be up to no good, as per usual. Ned had seen how gentle Rhaella was with Sansa and had asked her to keep an eye on his daughter when his duties as Hand of the King were occupying his time. 

She hadn't seem Jaime in days. News from Tywin had declared him captured by Robb Stark, eldest son to Ned, who had been planning on marching south to retrieve his father and sisters to see them safely home to Winterfell. Part of her was thrilled that he'd been so reckless. Maybe imprisonment would lessen the ego he seemed to have gained since being given the command of his own force.  

Her head spun as she surged forward onto the stage and wrapped her arms through Sansas. Being Cersei's head handmaiden had its perks, and so she marched off with the Kings soon-to-be-bride in tow, whispering quiet words of comfort in hopes to hush the sobs that would not cease even when they were alone in her chamber. 

  "Sansa, I know how you hurt." Rhaella cupped the young girls cheek with her hand and feigned a smile as the pads of her thumbs brushed the tears away. "But what I'm about to say is something I need you to remember for the rest of the time you know anyone with the last name Lannister. Don't trust them. Don't trust their motives, their actions, their words. They're silver tongued-" 

  "What about Lord Tyrion?" 

  "He's the only exception to the rule. Tyrion is a  _good_ man, despite the.. hobbies he holds." 

Sansa inhaled deeply and leaned inward to rest her forehead against Rhaellas shoulder. The elder woman softened and enveloped the girl with both arms to draw her closer to her breast, hoping her touch would provide some sort of comfort as that of a mother would. "I thank you for protecting me, Lady Mormont. My father spoke of your goodness and that I should turn to you in times of need." 

Rhaella made a promise to Sansa Stark that day that she fully intended on carrying out until her last day. 

  "When the nights are darkest and your fear is consuming, come to me and I'll be there." Sansa allowed her eyes to flicker down to the other womans gown, which had a slit deliberately torn through the slip beneath to reveal the sheath that was strapped around her thigh. "I will be your Keeper." 

***

It's when Tyrion returns to Kings Landing to be the new Hand of the King that he approaches her and makes the most  _absurd_ request he's ever made in the entire time they've known each other. To anyone else it would've made perfect sense, but to Rhaella it seemed like the perfect way to put an even larger target on her back for Cersei to aim at. 

  "I don't foresee my father sending his bannermen in search of my brother, much less to rescue him from his imprisonment. If he really cared for Jaimes wellbeing, he would've been home months ago ago and not in the grasps of the enemy." Rhaella swallowed the knot in her throat as her heart beat wildly out of her chest. Tyrion, sensing her obvious reluctance, reached outward and took her hands in his own. "Rhaella, there is  _no one else_ who would do this. You might be the only person in this entire city that cares enough to leave the Capital and seek Jaime out. To bring him home again." 

Why would she want to do that? Just so she could yearn for him  _more_ when he returned and once again set his sights on Cersei? 

Tyrion had always been kind to her, even as a child. She and Jaime had never seen him as the others saw him - an Imp, a Dwarf, a monster of his own making - but as a friend and a brother. But  _this,_ leaving Cerseis side and risking her life for a man who wouldn't dare look her way twice? "And why would I do that, Tyrion? Put my life on the line and simultaneously piss off my Queen Regent?" 

  "Firstly, you have  _never_ seen her as your Queen. Cersei's cruelty towards you began the day Jaime convinced her to keep your secret, and you've just never spoken up about it because you fear how he might see you as weak, or how his opinion of her might change if he were to find out. You are a Targaryen, Rhaella. Rhaella Stormborn. The Dragons Keeper. Have you forgotten?" 

  "No." The bite in her words is unintentional, but still they both wince at the sound of it. "I have simply spent too much time loathing your sister that I have been far too distracted to remember that I am the Lost Targaryen." 

Tyrion was a crafty man, and somehow despite her better judgement, he managed to convince her to use the underground tunnels and flee for Robb Starks camp. It had been long ago when she'd last been down here - hours after her fathers murder - and had been forced to store the armor Rhaegar had gifted her with before he'd disappeared with Lyanna and the Targaryen family sword. 

Fingers ripped away the Targaryen sigil. Blackfyre felt like a welcome friend against her hip, and as she pushed herself away from the shore, Rhaellas thoughts went to Jaime. 

And when Jaime fell asleep in his cage that night, his dreams were not of Cersei, but his Keeper. 

 

 


	4. Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella has never had the pleasure of meeting the Lady of Winterfell, but a short term alliance with Catelyn Stark brings about a new friendship and a reunion she had been awaiting for a year.

 

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_"There are no men like me. Only me."_

_"Oh, sweet Kingslayer... look at what the North has reduced you to."_

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  Cersei paid almost no mind to the fact that her prized handmaiden had disappeared in the middle of the night. Not even Varys was aware of where she'd gone or who she was going to see, but Tyrion insisted she was well cared for and feigned ignorance with a smile. The very sight made Cerseis blood boil - the audacity of her _monstrous_ baby brother - and continued on with her duty with the intention of wreaking hell on Rhaella by the time she returned to the Capital. 

  " _I assure you sister of mine, your prized handmaiden is well protected and cared for. No harm will come to her."_

 Tyrion had told her of how far she was to go before making her way to Robb Starks camp in the Riverlands on foot. He'd given her the supplies and the information to get her there, but when it came to  _freeing_ Jaime, Rhaella was clueless as to how she was supposed to play the Lord of Winterfell into gifting her with the Kingslayer. "To whatever Gods are listening, give me the words to speak." She whispered, spinning the dragon sigil she'd taken off the breastplate between gloved fingers. Night would fall soon and her dreams were no doubt to be gifted with the sight of Daenerys Stormborn, as they always were. 

She made camp just on the outskirts of Robbs camp, far enough away that his scouts would not be able to detect her presence. Rhaella contemplated building a fire even with the risk of being discovered, but  _this_ fire would not give her the protection that any other fire had before it, or the protection it'd given the Targaryens before her.

And so Rhaella slept on the cold ground with her hand beneath her head and the other wrapped around Keeper's hilt, and she dreamt of blonde hair and violet eyes - both of  _The Dragon Queen_ and  _The Beggar King._

***

  " _Justice for the Karstark!"_

Rhaella heard them before she saw them. It took an ample amount of silence on her part, but she was able to poise herself just inside the lines of Robb's camp to witness what was occurring in its center. A man on horseback were leading something or  _someone_ by a chain that ended at bound wrists, the form nearly unrecognizable by the mud that caked his skin. It was a man. A man who had probably seen better days. 

She lifted the hood of her brown cloak and opted to listen instead of making her presence known. 

  " _Stay back! I want his head! Any man who stands between a father and his vengeance asks for death."_

Cersei had told her stories about the Starks of Winterfell. She'd had the pleasure of knowing Eddard as the Hand for only a short period of time, having taken the oath of keeping an eye on Sansa even when Cersei was around. Rhaella had gone as far as to suffer the beating of Illyn Payne just so the poor child would not have to endure any more suffering under the hand of the King who she was to marry. Joffrey might have been a delight as a babe, but the moment he'd become a toddler, the boy was insufferable and deserved a thrashing that his mother had never given him. 

She'd never met Catelyn though, and it seemed that was about to change. 

  " _Lord Karstark!"_ Catelyn Stark strode through the crowd and stood before the Lord of Karhold, a bannerman to House Stark, with a brutish knight in gold armor at her heels. It took a much closer look for Rhaella to realize that the woman who accompanied Catelyn was in fact a  _woman._ " _This man is our prisoner."_

_"This monster killed my son!"_

_"And crippled mine!"_

Rhaella felt the air in her lungs dissipate at the confession. Sansa had told her in confidence about the mutilation of her brother, barely a boy, and how he'd likely never walk again after being shoved from the top window of The Broken Tower in Winterfell. Speculation had it that Jaime had been involved, but nothing had ever been confirmed. All her truths had just been whispers from the commoners. 

  " _He will answer for his crimes, I promise you. It cannot happen here."_

Ned had been right about one thing. Catelyn was braver then most women in her position, hard headed and fiercer then the dragons she dreamt of even in the face of those who would oppose her. Ned Stark would've shouted his adoration for the daughter of Hoster Tully from the rooftops of Winterfell if it meant people would know about the kind of woman he'd married. The kind of mother he'd chosen for his heirs and the very same woman who was about the only reason Jaime was still alive. 

  " _I will have his head, and if you try to stop me-"_

 " _You will strike me down?!"_ She could hear the indignation in her tone. " _Have you forgotten me, sir? I am the widow of your liege lord Eddard Stark and the mother of your King!"_

_"Where is our King now?"_

Most of the conversation following that particular confrontation was too soft for her to hear from that distance, but Rhaella very clearly saw the straw-haired knight at Catelyns heels draw her sword from the scabbard. Men drew Jaime back into their grasps and forcibly shoved him down the muddy path that lead back to the stockades, snatching spare chains to bind him and prevent another escape. 

Rhaella drew her cloak and retreated into the trees. Nightfall would come and that would be when she'd plead her case.

She only hoped her heart wouldn't betray her when she finally saw Jaime. 

***

Most of the Stark soldiers were far too preoccupied over threatening treason and slaughtering  _The Kingslayer_ to notice that someone had slipped into their defenses, so Rhaella took advantage of the opportunity and beelined for the stockades. The cover of darkness hid her from the guards and would give protection to both her and Catelyn as they negotiated for Jaimes release and the Stark girls safety. 

The straw-haired woman swung around at the presence behind Jaimes cage, hidden away in the shadows just on the inside of the clearing. "My Lady," She spoke slowly. "Someone stands in the shadows." Catelyn stiffened her stance and cleared her throat, beckoning the newcomer from the shadows. Rhaella came willingly. "In the name of Lady Catelyn Stark, widow to Lord Stark and mother of The King in the North, you will identify yourself and your purpose for slinking in the darkness." 

Rhaella silently thanked whatever Gods she did or didn't believe in that Tyrion had thought to attach the Mormont sigil to her cloak before she'd left. 

  "My name is Ella Mormont,"  _Lie. "_ A distant cousin to House Mormont, exiled from my home for my involvement as a young teenager in the slavery ring that got Jorah Mormont exiled from Westeros. I was not expecting to live but the Gods were kind enough to grant me my life and sent me to King's Landing to serve under the King. My Lady," Catelyns cold gaze never once left her as she spoke, and it made Rhaella more uneasy then she cared to admit. "I came to you tonight-" 

She cut her off sharply. "Who do you ally yourself with?" 

That one was easy. She absolutely despised House Lannister even after living with them nearly her entire life, and if Rhaella had her choice, she would've easily allied herself with the North even after growing up in the Capital. They were a much more peaceful people then those of the South and often kept to themselves instead of meddling in everyones affairs. The only downside was the cold. Dragons didn't fare well in it. "Despite living in King's Landing, My Lady, my allegiance is still to the King in the North. I don't concern myself with the affairs of Lannisters and their debts." 

That seemed to give Catelyn enough confidence to exhale the breath she'd been holding. "Very well. I am inclined to believe you for now, simply because I'm wishing to know if you have information regarding-" 

  "Your daughters?" She'd scarcely seen Arya since Ned's death and had been tending more to Sansa and her safety ever since, mostly neglecting her duties as a lady of the Court and Cersei's personal tool to tend to the young girl. "I have been in frequent contact with your eldest, Sansa. Arya has not been seen in the city since your husbands death. That is why I came, My Lady, to exchange Sansa safety for the release of The Kingslayer." 

  "I find that most ironic." She gestured to the woman behind her who had yet to utter another word. "Ella, this is Brienne of Tarth. She's a part of the Kingsguard to Renly Baratheon and has made an oath to deliver my daughters safely back to me. If there is no word of Arya's body being found, there is hope for her yet. This could very well be the Gods will to bring the two of you here to me at the same time. To safely return my daughters home." 

  "Forgive me, Lady Catelyn, but that is not what I meant-" 

  "Jaime spoke of you." Brienne said cooly. "The first time we went to see him in the stockades, he spoke of a handmaiden with a red hilted dagger and fierce eyes that he believed would come after him. He mentioned you weren't easily seen." Judging the slight upturn of her lips and the nod that followed, Rhaella considered her words as a compliment and took them in stride. "I believe we can work well, My Lady. She may ensure Sansa safety from the Capital and I will deliver your daughters to you." 

  "There is no promise I will not have to deal with the Queen, but I will do what I can. I'll do it for Sansa." Rhaella eyed the Lady of Winterfell up and down and shifted, maneuvering her cloak for Brienne to see the glint of black metal in the firelight. Her hand fell to the hilt of the dagger sheath at her thigh. "I swear my oath to you just as Brienne did before me. I, however, will at least need to see The Kingslayer to ensure he is alive." 

Catelyn didn't dare object and instead led the two women to the cage where Jaime was being kept. She vouched for Rhaella as her other personal guard alongside Brienne and stepped inside the cage. Rhaella hovered in the doorway reluctantly. It had been well over a year since she'd seen Jaime. He'd never been the same after being chosen to serve in her father's Kingsguard, but being imprisoned by the North surely hadn't done him any good. He probably had more blood on his hands then she cared to admit. 

  "I need to be alone with him." 

The guard swallowed thickly.  "My Lady-"

  "The orders I just  _gave_ you are to leave me alone with him. My personal guards will do their duty in protecting me." Rhaella brushed against her shoulder and leaned against the bars of the cage to get a better look at the man slumped over before her. 

And then he spoke so smoothly, so  _smugly,_ that she ignored the cries of her heart and opted to promptly punch him square in the face when the opportunity arose. "Have you come to say goodbye, Lady Stark? I believe it's my last night in this world." Green eyes followed the three bodies until they landed on Brienne who looked equally annoyed at his expression. "Excuse me, is that a  _woman?"_

 "Pardon me, Lady Stark-" She expected a guffaw or some type of shocked reaction from the older woman, but none came as she gripped Jaimes shirt and landed a blow right to the side of his jaw, reveling in the way he sharply gasped at the unexpected pain that bloomed along the side of his face. "I haven't felt something  _that_ good in ages. Sorry for the intrusion." Rhaella shook the numbness from her aching fingers. "Do continue." 

  "Do you hear that out there? They want your head." 

  "Old Lord Karstark doesn't seem to like me." 

She had seen the altercation earlier that morning but had known little of the context, so Brienne had taken the liberty to fill her in on the missing pieces. Jaime had killed Lord Karstarks son the previous night outside of his cell in a futile attempt to escape and would suffer the fate of the sword by the time Robb was to return. "You killed his son with your chains." 

  "Oh, was he the one on guard duty? He was in my way. Any knight would've done the same." 

It was Rhaella's turn to speak. Jaime hadn't fully acknowledged her presence yet given that she'd kept her hood up for that exact reason, but she was going to cherish the moment that the girl he'd abandoned and forgotten stepped to the opposite side of the war. The side he was fighting against. Rhaella might have lived in the Red Keep and served his sister, but she was still a Targaryen at heart, and even if she had said she'd pledge herself to the North, it was all just another lie. She was a Targaryen and they answered to  _no one._

"Oh, Kingslayer." Jaime froze as the hooded figure bent down and removed the hood of her cloak, gaze burning even in the firelight that flickered against her face. He inhaled deeply as greens met blues, and it took a moment for him to realize that Rhaella Targaryen was the one staring back at him. Once his best friend and the girl he cared for, now on the opposite side of the battle field adorned in the armor of the enemy. "Look at what they've reduced you to. You still believe yourself to be a knight?" She gripped his chin so tightly between two fingers he was sure it'd bruise. "You are no knight. You have forsaken every vow you'd ever took." 

It was there on the tip of his tongue. The very truth he'd spent years burying deeper then the grave of his own mother, truth about her father's death and truth about why he'd abandoned her and her memory the same day they'd buried Aerys. No matter how hard he tried or how much courage he summoned, Jaime could not bring himself to divulge it with Lady Stark and the brutish woman before him. 

  "So many vows. They make you swear and swear. Defend the King, obey the King, obey your father, protect the innocent and defend the weak. What if your father despises the King? What if the King massacres the innocent? No matter what you do you are forsaking one vow for another." His eyes flickered back to Brienne. "Where did you find this  _beast?"_

 "She is a truer knight then you will ever be, Kingslayer." 

Ah, there was that name again. The one she'd given him. 

  "Kingslayer. What a King he was. Here's to Aerys Targaryen, second of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, and to the sword I shoved in his back." He paused for a moment. "You know who gave me that title? His daughter. The heir to his throne after Rhaegar, The Dragons Keeper, the very girl who watched me murder her father without so much as a second thought before she too was murdered."  _So he decided to play along with the lie he'd created for her._ "She was the truest Knight I'd ever come to know." 

  "You are a man without honor." Catelyn said. 

  "You know, I've never been with any woman but Cersei. So in my own way I have more honor then poor old dead Ned." Jaime stiffened as the tip of a blade was laid against the soft flesh of his neck, right beneath the jugular, and pressed just enough to draw blood. Strong fingers wound into his hair and pressed his head against the wood column he leaned against. "Now tell me, when Ned came home with some whore's baby, did you pretend to love it? No. You aren't very good at pretending because you're an honest woman. You hated that boy, didn't you? A walking reminder that Lord Eddard Stark-"

  " _Silence."_ Rhaella snarled in his ear as her grip tightened on Keepers hilt. She might have sworn allegiance to Catelyn for the sake of Sansa, but that didn't mean she wouldn't keep Jaime in line when it was needed. "If you keep disrespecting Lady Stark in such a manner, I will do exactly what those men outside are dreaming of doing and remove your head for them. Imagine the  _songs_ they'll sing about me." 

  "Lady Brienne, your sword." 

The metallic ring of a blade echoed through the night and chains fell aimlessly against the ground. Rhaella internally weighed the circumstances as she and Brienne began their trek to the Capital with an irritable Jaime. 

_Made an acquaintance, possibly a future ally._

_Rescued Jaime from captivity._

_Kept my promise to Tyrion._

Then there was the last one.  _Pissed off Cersei._ She couldn't even begin to imagine what awaited for her when she returned. 

If there was anything left for her to return to. Cersei would make sure she would never be able to reach Jaime again. Never speak to him, never touch him, never see him. Because the Queen had always gotten what she wanted, and what she wanted was the one thing Rhaella couldn't have because it came down to a choice: the desires of her heart, or the desire to keep living. 

Brienne called out to her from ahead. The sun bore down heavily on them and the trees swayed with the wind as they trekked through the forest, but it was as peaceful as she could've hoped for, and so Rhaella smiled. 

She'd settle with living for now. 

 


	5. A Kingslayer, His Keeper, and The Lady of Tarth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their travels continue. Brienne has suspicions of her traveling companion, and Jaime continues his barrage against the Lady of Tarth. It's all fun and good until an unexpected arrival of House Bolton shakes their world.

 

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_“I don’t know which side you’re truly loyal to, Lady Mormont, but you know how you attempt to hide how you care behind a cold gaze and venomous words. I see right through you. I see your heart for a Lannister, and I pity the fool who gives their hearts away to that type of a man.”_

_“There are no other men like him, Lady Brienne.”_

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Rhaella broke her fast by praying to the Gods in thanks of Catelyn Stark for allowing her and Brienne to escort Jaime back to the Capital. It had been rather easy to navigate the darkness for the first few hours of their trip, and then he'd gotten a better look at Brienne and decided to goad her on well into the late hours of the morning. Neither women were foolish. They knew they didn't have the time to waste by paying any attention to his charade and instead needed to focus on not getting caught by the King in the North.

"Oof." Brienne slapped the backside of their other horse and urged them both deeper into their forest, hoping to draw the attention away from their escape and to the horses they'd find instead. Jaime sat upright on the forest floor and squinted as the bag was removed from his head and Rhaella saw him clearly for the first time in over a year. "You're much uglier in daylight."

He winced as she thread her fingers through his hair and gripped it tightly to haul him to his feet. "I'm gonna be the.. what do you call it," She mused. "Bad Cop to the Ladys Good Cop. Which means if you annoy me enough I will take this dagger and cut your balls off with it." Brienne wrenched him from her grasps and motioned to Blackfyre that had not moved from her waist, urging her to unsheathe it. "Don't test me."

Jaime wasn't deterred.

"What's your name?" He asked. "I'm Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock, son of Tywin. This is Ella Mormont of Bear Island. We're very good friends." His eyes caught hers and reflected the rays of the sun - gold flickering amongst emeralds - before he turned his attention back to Brienne. "She acts like she hates me most of the time, but I happen to know better. She is as loyal as they come."

"I am no more loyal to you Lannisters as you are to your oaths, Kingslayer."

"A captive knight has the right to know his captors identity."

Rhaella played with the bear pendant she'd torn off her cloak when dawn had broken. It had become somewhat of a habit over the days since she'd left the Capital. Brienne had little to share in lieu of conversation, which was welcome, but she couldn't help but wonder if the straw-haired knight saw right through her facade. It had taken a number of years for her to learn to perfect it in front of the Lannisters, but Brienne was a stranger. There was no telling what she knew.

"Brienne of Tarth."

Jaime clucked his tongue as she shoved him along down the dirt path. "Tarth... Cresent moons and starbursts. Lord Selwyn Tarth, he's your father. Do you have any brothers and sisters, my Lady? It's a long way to King's Landing. We should get to know one another. Have you known many men? I suppose not. Ella hasn't either. How about women? Horses-"

He grunted as Rhaella kicked him rather hard in the back of his knee and sent him tumbling into the bank just by the river. "I'm rather glad you left your boat here, Lady Ella." Brienne murmured her thanks. "It will be a convenience for getting us down the river." The slightest upturn of her lips was enough of a reply for the other woman, and so Rhaella set to tucking their belongings in each end of the boat while the middle left open space for the three of them. "Your crime are past forgiveness, Kingslayer."

"Why do you both hate me so much? Have I ever physically harmed you?"

Rhaella could feel the way her blood boiled at his words even from where she laid hidden inside the boat from the patrolling guards. Her fingernails ached as they dug deeper into the frame until the slightest drop of blood trailed down the inside of her pointer finger and collided with the floorboards. It utterly boggled her mind. Was Jaime really that oblivious to the hell she'd been trapped inside since the day he'd forced her to be _this_?

"You've harmed others. Those you swore to protect. The weak and the innocent-"

She knew that hit Jaime harder then he'd let on even from inside the boat. "Has anyone ever told you that you're as boring as you are ugly?"

"You will not provoke me to anger!"

"Oh, but I already have! Do you think you could though? Do you think you could beat me in a fair fight? Here's what you don't know about Lady Ella laying down in that boat." Rhaella froze, afraid he'd be stupid enough to reveal her real identity. "That sword she's got? Rubbish piece of metal. That dagger is what she's good at, and I'm the one who taught her how to use it. Haven't met anyone better with daggers and knives then Lady Ella of Bear Island."

Rhaella lifted her head from the boat and glowered at Jaime. "Flattery gets you nowhere. I've seen you fight, and I think she could and will easily beat you." Jaime rose a curved eyebrow that was mostly hidden by the fringe that hung on his forehead, and it took everything in her to not swoon at the sight. It was eerily reminiscent of the same boy she'd left on the cliffside before that dagger had been gifted to her.

"Please." He scoffed. "There are three men in the kingdoms who might even have a chance against me, and she's not one of them."

_ Is that all you are? Just your sword hand? _

Brienne was not easily deterred and seemed completely unfazed by Jaimes antics. "All my life men like you have sneered at me, and all my life I have been knocking men like you into the dust."

"If you are so confident, unlock my chains and see what happens."

Rhaella urged them both forward with one hand while Brienne held the side of the boat closest to her against the shore so they could step in. "Do you take me for an idiot? _In_." She demanded. Jaime complied willingly and sat himself in the boat across from Rhaella, who had taken the smallest space so Brienne could fit herself between them. His eyes drifted down to her hand that laid rested against her thigh. Her fingers twitched against the sheath as they often did when she was nervous or agitated. The sight made him smile. It was a habit she'd picked up after he'd given it to her, but she mostly kept it hidden beneath the gowns she wore in the Capital for extreme use only.

"I took you for a knight, a man. I'd even say a woman of honor. Was I wrong?'' He paused. "You're afraid." Brienne took the oar from beneath her feet and used it to push the bot away from the shore.

"Maybe one day we'll find out."

***

Brienne asked her first question long after Jaime had fallen asleep. They'd made camp further down river, about four hours travel from where they'd been, and settled into the rolled out mats that Catelyn had gifted her. "So tell me, Lady Ella," She murmured against the rather large rabbit leg poised in her fingers. "How is it that a high born Mormont looks absolutely nothing like those related to her?"

Rhaella froze instantly. She'd managed to perfect her performance well up until this point, and it was surely fate that Brienne asked the questions she had to fabricate answers for.

"Why do you ask, Lady Brienne?" She replied. "It is as I told Lady Catelyn, I was exiled from Bear Island after Ser Jorah fled the sword held by Ned Stark. I was so young at the time-"

"Firstly, please call me Brienne. I am no Lady. And secondly, I don't believe you." Brienne interjected. She tossed the bone into the fire and wiped her fingers against the handkerchief she'd been given at the start of their meal, which was when Jaime had still been awake. He'd only been asleep a matter of hours, but she knew from experience that once he was asleep, he wasn't waking up easily unless harm was to come to him. "I've seen the other Mormonts, learned about them in my studies with Septa Roelle. You look nothing of the sort. And that sword you're carrying?" She motioned to Blackfyre with a flick of her hand. "It's Valyrian steel. There's only a handful of them left in the Seven Kingdoms, and they're not easy to come by."

This would've been where she inserted a witty remark or changed the topic, but Rhaella was so awed by how Brienne paid attention to even the slightest detail that she remained silent.

"Your hair is dark but your eyes are bright, brighter then most people I've come across. Your armor is the same. Forged of rare black metal and is missing the House emblem on the breast. You want to know what I think?" She leaned forward on her heels and smiled over the dance of the flames that sat between them. "Personally, I think you're the Lost Targaryen girl. The eldest daughter.. Oh, what was her name. The one everyone thinks to be murdered alongside her father."

She didn't say another word for the rest of the night simply because Brienne couldn't actually prove it, or remember the eldest Targaryen daughters name. Rhaella had seen the way she'd stood tall in the presence of Catelyn Stark and imagined it was the same for whoever she'd served as a Kingsguard, but she knew Brienne of Tarth was a woman of honor and would keep whatever oaths or secrets she was given privilege to know.

Jaime was the first awake that following morning and once again they set off further through their trek in the Riverlands. It was relatively silent for the greater duration of the time, waves lapping against the boat as they smoothly sailed through the water. The air was warm and the sun reluctantly peered from behind the clouds that hung overhead, but she and Brienne were in good spirits.

Until Jaime started talking again.

"You're a virgin, I take it?"

That earned him a well placed slap across the arm. " _Jaime_." Rhaella deadpanned. His name flowed so easily from her mouth that it didn’t occur to her Brienne hadn’t heard her say it until that point. ”You don't go around asking people questions like that! It's wrong and it's rude and-"

"Doesn't faze me in the slightest, Ella." Brienne replied. "Walk, Kingslayer." The two women walked in sync and shoved Jaime forward, Brienne's hand firmly wrapped around the rope that bound his hands.

"I imagine your childhood was miserable for you. Were you a foot taller then all the other boys? They laughed at you, called you names. Some boys like a challenge. One or two must've tried to get inside Big Brienne."

Her mind flashed back to one of her earliest memories as a young girl with Jaime. Her father had forced her to attend a ball, for what reason she could not remember, but she'd only agreed to go because Rhaegar whispered promises of sword-play and Jaime had also promised to be in attendance. She remembered the way the older boys ogled her. Barely thirteen years old, adorned in Targaryen red, bright eyes and silver hair plaited neatly down her spine as she gracefully moved across the floor of the Great Hall.

_"Did you hear about the Targaryen girl's infertility? They say she will not be able to produce heirs. Who will marry her?"_

_"She'd be lucky to snatch a highborn husband."_

_She would not be swayed by the opinions of others, but the louder they whispered, the harder she fought to control the tears that burned the back of her eyes. Jaime swooped in at the very moment she was poised to flee. He pressed his hand against the small of her back and took her other with his free one as he straightened his spine and they began to dance in time with the music._

_"Don't look at them. Look at me." He'd whispered in her ear. He was only fourteen, but he was the prized jewel of his House. The Golden Lion, heir to Casterly Rock and the subject of all young girls desires. The only difference was they didn't have him. She did. "Father always says that a lion does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep. Same goes for you."_

_She had simply smiled and rose onto her tiptoes to whisper, "Targaryens do not answer to the likes of Gods or Men."_

Warm fingers around her wrist jarred her back to reality. Rhaella winced as she caught sight of three bodies hung by a rope in the nearest tree, the words **they lay with lions** hastily scrawled for all passersby to see. A warning. "Tavern girls, I'd say. They probably served my father's soldiers. Maybe one of them gave up a kiss and a feel. That's how they earned this. Glorious work of the Northern freedom fighters." Jaime said. "It must make you proud to serve the Starks."

"I don't serve the Starks. I serve Lady Catelyn."

"Tell yourself that tonight when they swing in your dreams." The older woman snorted as Brienne shoved Jaime into the nearest tree and made quick work of beginning to tie him to it. "What are you doing?"

Rhaella removed Keeper from its sheath and stepped in front of Jaime. "I'm burying them. And while I do that, Lady Ella here is going to take that dagger and cut you up a hundred different ways if you so much as look at her the wrong way. Believe me, she holds the anger towards you to do it well-" All three froze as unfamiliar voices echoed up the hill. Presumably male.

"Untie me." Jaime demanded. "Now."

She pressed her hip into his own and barred his mouth shut with her hand as three men dressed in armor came prancing down the hill. They stopped and snickered at the sight of the two women alongside the scraggly man in their care. "What are you doing?"

"Traveling a prisoner."

All three burst into hysterical fits of laughter upon realizing Brienne was a woman. Rhaella's brow knit in concern as she stepped away from Jaime and unsheathed Blackfyre, fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt as she held the sword with more confidence then most men. "You're a woman! Both of you!"

"If you've quite finished-"

More laughter. She saw the anger flicker beneath Brienne's stoic expression, blue eyes cast towards the ground. Part of her sympathized with the other woman for one particular reason: She very clearly didn't believe she'd ever be loved by a man. Cersei had spent half her young adult years spewing hatred for her affection towards Jaime until she'd finally given up any chance of it and had moved on. Or tried to anyway. It was hard to mourn what you never had when the very object of your desire lives beneath the same roof.

"Alright, we'll be going."

''Woah, okay! You can put the sword down now. Although, I bet you can do some naughty-" Rhaella glowered at the man before her and pressed Blackfyres tip against his chest just hard enough that he could feel the pressure through his armor. "I'll bite. Who do you fight for?"

"The Starks." They replied simultaneously.

They motioned to Jaime. "And what did he do?"

"Apparently eating is now a crime-"

Rhaella curled her fingers and dug her fingernails into Jaimes forearm so hard she thought he'd bleed. "No, but stealing is. We're taking him to Riverrun. If you steal from the Tullys, it's their dungeons you're going to rot in."

"Why don't you just kill him?"

Bright, female laughter echoed across the forest. "I don't give the orders." Brienne interjected. "He must be important to someone."

"If someone is sending him with two women, how important could he be?"

_Important to a small man with a large appetite and a love for his older brother._

"Wait a minute. Do I know you?"

"No. I don't think you do. Have you ever been to Ashemark?"

Rhaella barely had time to comprehend the extent of the conversation before Brienne was shouting orders at her, and she watched in awe as the straw-haired knight singlehandedly took down all three men that stood before them. Jaime had pressed himself so close to her that she could practically feel the warmth seeping through his soiled tunic and the frantic pounding of his heartbeat against her shoulder blades.

"Did you just-" She stammered in disbelief, pointing to the nearest man with her sword. "I have never seen another woman fight that well. That was extremely impressive, even by his standards. Well done Brienne." If it was possible, Jaime was sure her words of affirmation had made Brienne blush. Maybe it wasn't so often that someone complimented her skills."Were those Stark men?"

Jaime nodded. "Indeed they were."

"As I said before, Ella and I don't serve the Starks. We swore oaths to Lady Catelyn. She promised Sansa's safety and I promised to return you to the Capital. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

***

She’d begun to love the sight of the countryside. Brienne had been insistent about taking backroads and fields to deliver Jaime to the Lannisters to prevent being seen by Robb Stark or anyone who associated themselves with him, and so far it had worked out to their benefit. Her pale skin had begun to take on a sun-kissed color and the blues of her eyes seemed to get brighter the more she strengthened her growing friendship with Brienne.

“Do you know how long it’s going to take us to get to King’s Landing walking through fields and forests?” Jaime asked as the three of them trudged through the treeline.

“Yes.’’

“So how should we pass the time?”

“By putting one foot in front of the other.”

Jaime watched Rhaella’s fingers dance over the hilt of her dagger as she snorted indignantly. “Fair warning Brienne, The Kingslayer here doesn’t do patience. He’s the most impatient man I’ve ever met.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jaime retorted. “But in all fairness, it’s going to be an incredibly dull walk.”

“I am here to take you to King’s Landing. Lady Ella will enter the Capital to retrieve Sansa and bring her to me, and I will return her and hopefully Arya to Lady Catelyn in exchange. Dull is fine.”

“You know it doesn’t matter how loyal of a servant you are, no one enjoys the company of a humorless mule.”

Rhaella rose her hand in Brienne’s defense. “I do. She’s the exact opposite of you and makes for a good companion when there’s another person who wants to harass you as mercilessly as I do.”

Jaime had spent so many year with his eyes focused in Cerseis direction that he’d come to neglect just how beautiful his childhood best friend had become in the years she’d been living another life. She’d gained a considerable amount of muscle from the grunt work performing for Cersei in both her legs and her arms, which would broaden her ability on the battlefield despite her height. Her hair, despite the lack of proper hygiene on their travels, was well washed from her time in the river and glimmered in the sunlight like that of the gold in the mines at Casterly Rock. Her eyes were brighter, she smiled more, and it was hard to not stare at one so beautiful when they were right before you.

Jaime was insistent to stop and piss, so both women stood on parallel sides of him with their backs turned to allow him the privacy he needed.

“So how did you come to serve Lady Stark? There’s something we could talk about.”

Brienne crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not your concern, Kingslayer.” Rhaella watched from the corner of her eye as Jaime shifted his gaze in her direction, probably wondering how she’d managed to escape the Capital without his sister noticing.

“Must’ve been recently. You weren’t with her at Winterfell.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I was just at Winterfell. I would’ve noticed your dour head smacking into the archways.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and adjusted her grip on the rope that bound Jaimes hands. “Lady Ella, behind him, if you would.” She called out. “Move.”

Rhaella fell in line behind Jaime and kept her hand on Keeper as they continued through the forest. It was better to listen to this particular… ah, banter then take part of it.

“Were you pledged to Stannis, then?”

The guffaw Brienne gave was almost laughable. “Gods, no.” She replied.

“Ah, Renly then? Really? He wasn’t fit to rule over anything more important then a twelve course meal.”

“ _Shut your mouth.”_

Rhaella swallowed the knot growing in her throat. If this kept on the way she imagined it would, Brienne would not only reveal her anguish over the death of Renly Baratheon but would simultaneously gut Jaime for harassing her about it. She’d been a part of his Kingsguard, had cared for him, and he was manipulating her emotions for his own pleasure. Idiot.

“Why? I lived with him in court since he was a boy, don’t forget. I could hardly escape the little tulip. Skipping down the corridors in his embroidered silks. I knew him far better then you.”

“I knew him as well as anyone. As a member of his Kingsguard, he trusted me with everything. He would’ve been a wonderful King.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“It sounds like you fancied him.”

Brienne’s eyes grew dark at the statement. “I did not fancy him.” She said sharply.

“Oh Gods, you did.” Jaime remarked. “Did you ever tell him? You weren’t Renlys type, I’m afraid. He preferred curly haired little girls like Loras Tyrell. You were far too much man for him.”

“I’m not interested in foul rumors.”

“Unless they’re about me.” Jaime peered over his shoulder to Rhaella who had not spoken a word during the entire conversation. “Say, dear Ella, what are the whispers about the Capital concerning what happened at Winterfell?” He awaited an answer, hoping she’d snarl at him or bear her dagger, but she kept her eyes locked on the ground to avoid his piercing gaze. That was all he needed to know. She knew about Brandon Stark and his involvement with the boys mutilation. “It’s all true about Renly. His proclivities were the worst kept secret of the court. It’s a shame the throne wasn’t made out of cocks-“

Rhaella jolted forward and stopped Jaime midstep, dragging him backward hard enough that the back of his skull aligned with her right shoulder. Brienne stopped, amazed at her strength, and watched in wonder as she drew the Valyrian steel dagger from its hilt. She didn’t have to move a foot.

“Shut your mouth.” Rhaella snarled. Jaime could barely stand it. The tightness of her fingers in his hair, the warmth of her skin that radiated through her armor, the vicious glare in the blues of her eyes. “Be honorable for a second, for Gods sake. Honor the dead and don’t speak ill of them. Do I really have to tell you this?”

“What I was going to add is that I don’t blame him.” He replied softly. “And I don’t blame Brienne either. We don’t get to choose who we love.”

Rhaella searched his eyes for any signs of deception, any signs of manipulation or foul play. She’d learned how to read people years ago as a daughter of the King of Westeros, living in the foulest city of the Seven Kingdoms, but Jaime had always been an open book to her. There was no deception in the greens of his irises. Truth and vulnerability and hope was all that was present.

The sight made the walls around her heart begin to crumble.

“Where are you headed then?”

It seemed that during their intense stare down that a rider had intercepted them in the forest, dragging along a horse-drawn carriage with supplies set to be received at Riverrun. “South.” Brienne replied.

“Staying off the Kingsroad, are you? They get you no matter where you go. You can’t win.”

It felt like an ominous foreshadowing, the way he talked. She tried not to pay attention to it.

“Looks like you’re safe enough though. Meaning no offense, My Ladies, but I wouldn’t tangle with you. Either of you.” He laughed heartily and gripped the reins of his horse. “Seven Blessings to ya.”

“And you.” Brienne called out. The three of them stood still as the lone man continued on down the road, passing them a final glance before disappearing from sight.

“He knows who I am. If he doesn’t, which you might be right about, what if you’re wrong and he tells someone?”

“We’re not doing it.” Ah, Jaime wanted them to kill him. What a surprise. “He’s an innocent man.”

“More innocent then Lady Stark’s daughters?”

They travelled mostly in silence after that. The only sound heard to them was the rushing of water from the river at their right, boots padding through the earth at their feet as they approached the bridge that stood between them and the other side of the river.

Jaime had stuck closer to her in the last hour then he had since they’d left Catelyn Stark. Maybe he knew her heart would betray her.

“I don’t think there’s much a choice. Cross the bridge and risk being seen or cross the great water-“

“Silence, Kingslayer.”

“Now anyone could see us on the bridge, but cross by water and the current could take us or I could escape by the river-“

Rhaella laughed quietly. “Because I would absolutely let that happen. Sure. Let’s go with that one.”

“Good luck. She’s not letting you go anywhere.” Brienne retorted.

“It’s absolutely wonderful to watch you wrestle with these dilemmas.” Jaime said. “Which will she choose?”

Brienne ultimately decided that their best bet was to travel across the bridge as it was quicker than wading through the water. “A gamble at heart. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Be quick about it!”

Jaime did the exact opposite and did a dramatic sink to his knees right in the middle of the bridge. “Oh,” He moaned. “How one needs rest.”

“Get up!”

“How these.. you know how your feet when you walk too far-“

Rhaella grit her teeth behind pursed lips. Someone was going to see them and then that would be the end of it.

“Get up now!”

“Corns.” Both women frantically surveyed either side of the river for potential enemies or invaders, completely ignorant to Jaimes incessant groaning about the condition of his feet. “I never used to get corns. I used to ride everywhere, not march around like a common foot soldier wearing the same boots for over a year!”

“Brienne?”

“With pleasure.” The straw-haired woman began to heave The Kingslayer to his feet, and before she could react, Jaime had unsheathed the sword at her hip and simultaneously cut the rope that bound him to her.

Jaime smiled - that coy, smug smile she secretly adored - and turned his obtained blade towards them. “I never understood why a Knight felt like they needed to carry two swords.”

Rhaella watched in astonishment as they danced around one another. She tried to step in and intervene, but he simply pointed the blade at her torso and clucked his tongue in disapproval. He had no intention of hurting her, but Brienne.. This was a test for Brienne of Tarth. It was up to her to pass it.

“You move well.” He remarked. “For a great beast of a woman.” The song of metal kissing metal rang in the air as their swords struck one another. “You shouldn’t grimace before you lunge. It gives away the game.”

Watching the two of them spar was eerily reminiscent of the days he’d trained her in the hidden area by the cliffside when it had just been the two of them. Alone, without prying eyes, just Rhaella Targaryen and Jaime Lannister.

Oh how she missed it.

“Bit of a quandary for you. If you kill me, you fail Lady Stark. If Lady Ella kills me, she fails the promise to whomever snuck her out of the Capital. If you don’t kill me, I’m going to kill you.”

Rhaella froze at the echo of horse hooves and sped down the bridge to where Jaime was engaged with Brienne, performing the very same maneuver that had downed him years ago. He’d never quite figured out how to deflect from it.

Knee pressed against his chest, Rhaellas eyes snapped upward to the riders at the opposite end of the bridge. There were multiple riders, all men, well armored and armed. “Looks like your woman got the better of you, if you could call that a woman.” He gestured to Brienne absently. “Your other companion has far more womanhood to her though. Wouldn’t mind taking that for a spin.”

“Bite me.”

“And she’s got spunk! I already like her!”

“We have always enjoyed a good fight, the three of us. It gets our juices flowing.” Jaimes eyes shifted to the banner that billowed behind them. “The flayed man of House Bolton. A bit gruesome for my taste.”

“Are you sure he’s the one?”

Rhaella felt her stomach drop when the same lone traveler they’d encountered on the road appeared. “That’s him.” He replied. “I saw him at the tourney for Sir Willam Frey’s wedding.”

“Let us go and my father will pay you whatever you want.” Jaime countered. It was a defense he’d used nearly his entire life - the wealth of the Lannisters - to ease himself out of difficult situations.

“Enough to buy me a new head? If the King in the North knew I had the Kingslayer and let him go, he’d be taking it right off. I’d rather he takes yours.”The crowd of Bolton men moved forward and surrounded them on all sides, making it impossible for any chance of escape. Rhaella kept her eyes forward and kept to Brienne's side, desperate to draw the attention away from her and onto something else.  _Someone_ else. The men of House Bolton gazed at her like she was the newest piece of meat to devour. 

She knew the ways of such men. How they defiled women. Left them to fend for themselves, kicking and screaming in hopes that someone will hear them and come to their aid. She'd shove Keeper through the nearest eye before letting any of them touch her. 

And then Jaime leaned over and whispered just soft enough for them to hear, " _They will not touch you."_ Lips dragging across the shell of her ear, breath warm against her skin. It was the most alive she'd felt since sneaking out of the Capital to attend to rescuing Jaime and returning him to the Lannisters. 

She met his gaze in the dark. He was telling the truth. And if Jaimes eyes told the truth as they always had, she was inclined to believe him. 


	6. Oaths and How to Keep Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys learns more about the brother and sister she never met in the midst of liberating the slaves at Yunkai, and learns a secret long buried in the rubble of her father's kingdom. 
> 
> Rhaella learns her heart betrays her far more often then she wants it to, and something that has been broken since Jaime joined the Kingsguard begins to mend itself together. Brienne is a witness to Jaime Lannisters honor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this entire chapter written out last night, and my computer whacked out and deleted the entire thing. A comment would be nice on this one simply because I'm not too fond of the second time around like I was the first one. I have the entirety of the bathroom at Harenhal already written out and am so looking forward to sharing it!

 

Jorah Mormont remembered the moments he told stories of Rhaella Targaryen to Daenerys. It was a long ride to the city of Astapor, and the _Khaleesi_ seemed to be desperate for company, so he kept her attention with stories of her sister in her early years of visiting Bear Island.Recanting such stories made it feel like the events had occurred only yesterday, and not years ago. He’d been a different man back then. 

She asked him so many questions. Many of which he could not give answers to, but he tried his best to provide her with that answers she sought.

Jorah remembered the nights that Daenerys Stormborn fell asleep with a smile on her face the fondest. 

***

“Jaime, do you see my dagger?”

“Yes.”

“Good, cause if I have to hear this infernal song _one_ more time-“

Jaime snorted from where he sat atop the horse and rubbed at his raw wrists. The Bolton men had opted to keep Rhaella bound and away from Brienne in case either woman tried a means of escape, and there was no exit strategy available for any of them. They were well and truly at a loss. 

His mind kept wandering simply because this was the closest he’d been to Rhaella Targaryen in _years,_ and here she was allowing him to lace his fingers through her own. The bonds had been loose enough for her to slip her hand back to meet his. 

  “I hope you’re pleased, the both of you. If you’d armed me, they would’ve never taken us.” 

Brienne grimaced from where she sat parallel to them. “You were _armed_ when we were taken, you fool.” She tutted. 

  I was in chains, if you recall. Our little match would’ve ended quickly if my hands weren’t bound.” 

“You never did quite figure out how to keep me from jamming my foot into your knee.” Rhaella replied. “Worked seventeen years ago and works even better now that you’re an old man.”

 “All my life I’ve been hearing the same thing, _Jaime Lannister. What a brilliant swordsman._ You were slower then I expected, and more predictable.” 

  “I’ve been sitting in a muddy pen wrapped in chains for the last year!” Jaime exclaimed. 

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m a woman and I was still beating you. Maybe you were as good as people said, once upon a time. Maybe people just love to overpraise a famous name.” 

Rhaella kept her eyes locked on the path before them, trodden with horse hoof prints and the smell of soiled clothes. Her armor hung heavily on her wearied form, Blackfyre taken from her possession upon capture. She’d thought ahead to slip Keeper into the confines between her boot and her sock. 

“When we make camp, you’ll be raped. Both of you.” His words felt like she’d ingested the most toxic of poisons, and Jaime felt suddenly empty when Rhaella wrenched her hand from his grasps and returned it to the reins of the horse. He hoped she knew that he’d do everything in his power to prevent her from being defiled by the likes of such men. “None of these fellows have ever been with a noble woman. You’d be wise not to resist.“

  “Well good on them, cause they don’t get to start now.” Rhaella seethed. “No one touches me without my permission.” 

  “Would I be wise? They can knock my teeth out. I don’t care about them.”

Jaime turned his head to look at Brienne from the corner of his eye. Rhaella had not said a word in the last several minutes. “If either of you attempt to fight them, they will kill you. Do you understand that? I am the prisoner of value, not you. Let them have what they want. What does it matter?” 

She grit her teeth so hard that her ears began to ring. Was he _really_ that naive? Did he not know the feeling of true intimacy because his first time had been with his sister? He’d wanted a quick one, and Cersei had spread her legs wide enough for him to enter. Just the very thought of it made her stomach turn with disgust. 

  “What does it matter? That’s great coming from you. Jaime Lannister, famed swordsman and most screwable man in Westeros.” 

Rhaella knew her words impacted him harder then she realized, and that ever occurring feeling of guilt gnawed away at her stomach as she felt Jaime sag behind her. “Pretend they’re Renly.” Brienne visibly stiffened in her saddle. “ _Pretend they’re me.”_

Maybe he had known of her affection for him. Maybe he had known and _still_ chosen Cersei because she was a willing candidate. She was beautiful and she was available, she wasn’t the daughter of a dead King and she was everything Jaime wanted in a lover. 

  "Pretend they’re you? We are a thing of the past. _We_ are no longer a category.” 

Brienne knew the signs when she saw them. Despite how adamant Ella remained about the way she cared for the Kingslayer, she could see the betrayal every single time they locked eyes with one another. It was evident in the way she held his hand and how she caught his gaze, lingering for just a second longer then needed before she forced herself to pull away. 

 _We_ was still very much alive. 

  “If you were a woman,” She opted to break the tension by interjecting her opinion. “You wouldn’t resist? You’d let them do what you wanted?” 

  “If I was a woman, I’d make them kill me. I’m not, thank the Gods.” 

They rode on in silence. 

*** 

“Give me your water.”

He’d seen this before, in another lifetime with another Targaryen. Despite what the people of Westeros had to say about their house, Jorah Mormont knew firsthand that the Targaryen women had gentle hearts. _Compassionate_ hearts. 

  “The Walk of Punishment is a warning, Your Grace.” Ser Barristan Selmy remarked from where he stood at Daenerys side. They had not anticipated meeting the former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard in Essos, but he’d been unwilling to divulge much of _why_ he was over here. He seemed very keen on serving the next Targaryen to take the Iron Throne. “A warning for people who might attempt what these slaves did.” 

Daenerys paid no attention to the former Knight and offered his water to the dying man on the cross. He denied her, as expected. She listened intently to their conversation about the Sack of King’s Landing where her sister and father had died only mere hours after the Usurper had slaughtered Rhaegar. 

 

It was Jorah’s words that caught her attention next. “Rhaegar fought valiantly, Rhaegar fought nobly, and Rhaegar died.”

  “Did you know my brother well, Ser Barristan?” 

“Aye, Your Grace. I did. From the time he was a squire until the Battle of The Trident. I fought beside him. I bled beside him.” A moment of silence passed before he continued. “I was often kept as a watch for both your brother and sister. Your father was pressed to let Rhaella train with the sword as she was the next to inherit the throne after Rhaegar. She never once touched a longsword, but I saw what that girl could do with knives and daggers. She was braver then any woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I wish I had known them both.”

“Here is the thing most people don’t know, Your Grace.” Barristan laid a hand on her arm. “It is said that Jaime Lannister slew your father _and_ your sister at the foot of the Iron Throne. That’s what many people were lead to believe. However… her body was never found.”

Daenerys stiffened in the older knights grasps. Jorah had told her tales of her sister and brother and the love they’d spread throughout the Capital of Westeros, how beloved they were to the people, but now her death was simply a rumor? 

  “How can that be?” Jorah interjected. “It is said The Kingslayer killed Rhaella Targaryen in the final moments of the Sack and left her body at the foot of the Iron Throne.”

“No one knows. Many think she hides in the shadows of the City as a different person. If that were the case, we’d have Jaime Lannister to thank for saving her life.” Barristan said. “Many wait for the day she emerges from the shadows and takes back what was stolen from her family. Takes back the Throne with _you_ and _for_ you.”

_The Prophecy._

  "I wish I had known them both.” Daenerys replied. “But Rhaegar was not the Last Dragon, and if what you say of my sister is true, I look forward to the day I am to meet The Dragons Keeper.” 

 

***

They made camp later that night. The leader of the Bolton men who they’d come to know as _Locke_ had once again separated Brienne from Jaime and Rhaella as a precaution, but the three of them were far too weary to care.

Jaime was hyper aware of the very little proximity between him and Rhaella as they were knee to knee against the tree. The bark bit into the flesh of his neck and his back absolutely ached, but that was nothing compared to the look of rage that flickered in the bright eyes of the woman beside him. 

  “Jaime.” She whispered. “Lean inward and tell me if you see the scabbard in my boot.” Jaime did as he was told and slowly leaned in to peer into her shoe, the leather scabbard he’d had commissioned for Keeper just barely peeking out through the fabric of her boot. 

  “Did you really-“ 

“If any of them attempt to make a pass at me, it’s going through the nearest limb.”

Under different circumstances, Jaime would’ve laughed at her crude humor, but given the look of pure ferocity in her eyes and the way her fingers dug tightly into her thighs, his brow furrowed in concern. 

  “We’ll take the big one first. When she’s good and wet, you lot can finish her off.” Rhaella froze as three men emerged from the dark and locked hungry eyes on Brienne. Jaime hoped she knew he would do everything in his power to prevent her from meeting the same fate as Brienne. 

  “My Lord, I am Brienne of Tarth. Lady Catelyn Stark commanded Lady Mormont and I to deliver Ser Jaime to King’s Landing-“ The blood that roared in her ears turned to ice as they all turned their gazes towards where she sat curled into Jaime. _Crap._

   _“_ Well, what do we know? The tiny lady is a _high born!_ ” Locke exclaimed. “That makes this even better. And as for you.. Catelyn Stark is a treasonous cunt. Our orders were to take the Kingslayer alive, but nobody said anything about you or his whore.” 

Ah, so that’s what they were calling her now. The Kingslayer’s Whore. _Splendid._

Rhaella felt her heart sink as Brienne began thrashing in her captors grasps, landing precise blows in places she knew would be most effective, but to no avail. Jaime watched her expression contort from sadness to one of pure anger as they dragged her newest friend into the darkness of the woods. Rhaella hadn’t acquired many of those since coming into his sisters service. 

Catelyn Stark had been right about one thing. Brienne of Tarth was a more honorable knight then he was, or then he’d ever be. He’d forsaken his vows and threw all caution to the wind to produce heirs with his sister. Jaime had been so _deep_ in his affections for Cersei that he’d forgotten all about the silver haired Targaryen hiding away in the shadows of the Red Keep because he’d simply been too selfish to let her die with her father. She, as was Brienne, was still so _innocent_ and _pure._ He wouldn’t allow them to be defiled by the likes of men as these. 

Jaime wouldn’t allow himself to remain silent for this one. 

  “You do know who she is, don’t you?” He called out. Locke turned his attention away from Brienne’s fracas in the woods to regard the Kingslayer and the woman beside him. “She’s Brienne of Tarth. Have you ever heard of Tarth? They call it the Sapphire Isle. Do you know why?” 

  “No, but I imagine you’re going to tell me anyway.” 

Rhaellas smile grew as she listened to him fabricate a lie about the origins of sapphires and Tarth’s significance to the other mans future fortune. “Every sapphire in Westeros was mined on Tarth. They’re gemstones. The blue ones.” 

  "I know what they are.’’ 

‘’Lord Selwyn would pay his daughters weight in sapphires if she is returned to him, alive with her honor _unbesmirched._ I imagine my kid sister would do the same for her handmaiden. She’s more likely to give gold dragons then sapphires.”

Locke motioned to his men in the woods. “Bring her back here.” He glanced down at Jaime. “Unbesmirched. That’s a fancy word for a fancy man.” 

Rhaella paid no attention to the conversation between the two men and allowed her gaze to flicker back to Brienne as she was thrown down in the same spot she’d been previously. She looked unharmed besides the wound on her lip, but it did nothing to veil the concern that contorted her expression. 

  “My father forced me to study the books every morning before I could practice with sword or horse. Two hours every day holed up in the Maester’s Chambers with Lady Mormont. She was the one who helped me learned the fancy words.” Jaime unintentionally pressed his knee into her own as he watched her fingers inch towards Keeper. “Very intelligent, very bright woman. That has the potential to be dangerous.” 

  “Oh, I bet she is.” Locke bent down and gripped Rhaella by her tunic, forcing her upward and onto her feet. Jaime half expected a pained cry to pierce the air as her dagger made its mark. He was met with no such sound. Rhaella didn’t even look _frightened_ of the man before her. “Are you a dangerous woman?” 

She batted her lashes innocently. “Oh, my Lord. Why ever would you think that?” Brienne gasped softly as Rhaella threw her head back and right into Lockes face, causing him to drop her rather ungracefully to the ground as he clutched his head in pain. The men behind him were far too stunned to retaliate. “N-Next person who tries to make a pass at me gets a knife to the throat by this dangerous woman. Any takers?” 

Not one soul dared to challenge her. Locke, however, was foolish enough to retaliate by slamming his fist into the side of her head so hard that she fell unconscious almost immediately. 

  “Your father, he’d pay your weight in gold to get you back.” 

“You’d be a rich man for the rest of your days.” Jaime replied. “Your sons would be rich men and their sons after them. Lands, titles, you’ll have them all. The North can’t win this war. You’re a smart man. You understand that. We have the numbers and the gold.”

  “Aye. You have both.” 

“Fighting bravely for a losing cause is admirable. But fighting for a winning cause? It’s far more rewarding.”

   “Hard to argue with that.” 

Jaime felt a swell of confidence bloom in his chest. “Now that we’re speaking to each other man to man, I wonder if you really need to keep me tied up to this tree? I’m not asking to be freed from my constraints, but if I can sleep lying down, my back would thank you for it. I’m not as young and resilient as I once was.” 

“None of us are.” Locke stood to his feet and motioned for his men to join him by the fire. “Men, unchain Ser Jaime from the tree. Put his companion by the bigger one. She doesn’t quite have my, uh-“ He wiped at the spot of blood on his lip. “Trust.”

Rhaella stirred as she was placed beside Brienne. The younger woman did her best to try and find any obtained injuries but found none other then the obvious one to her head. “Try not to move much, Ella.” Brienne whispered urgently as Locke took Jaime further into the tree line just out of her sight. “I believe you to be concussed-“ 

Despite the stars dancing in her vision, Rhaella slowly maneuvered herself until she was sitting on her knees with her weight balanced by the pressure of her hands against the forest floor. She couldn’t see what was occurring beyond, but she heard Jaime well enough. The sound of his voice did nothing to alleviate the sense of dread that bubbled low in her belly. “ _Jaime-“_ She pleaded. “ _Jaime-“_

_Out here, you aren’t The Kingslayer. You aren’t some plaything for Cersei to get off on. Out here in the great beyond where no one can reach us, you are Jaime._

Brienne knew almost as soon as the screaming started that Ella Mormont cared far more about The Kingslayer then she allowed herself to believe. She knew with each tear that fell down dirtied skin and each whimper of his name that Jaime Lannister was far more then just some famous name she’d happened to live with nearly her entire life. 

_My Jaime._

She’d always thought that intimacy was something solely between a man and wife behind closed doors. A _physical_ intimacy. There was something altogether different about the type of intimacy that happened in the dead of night while a high-born woman, bound at hand and covered in dirt, tended to the wounds of the man she claimed to despise with every molecule of her existence. 

  “ _Do you love him?”_

_“I was never allowed a chance to love him.” They’d exchanged this secret over the dying embers of a fire made just hours before they’d found the bridge. Jaime slept soundly at her side, fingers curled around her calf as if he was reassuring himself in his sleep that she was still there. “I made an oath that I wouldn’t allow myself to love him again after seventeen years of being nothing but a ghost. A fragment of a memory he buried in his mind.”_

   _“Did you keep it?”_

_Rhaella was silent. “I want to believe I will.” The expression of peace that passed over her face as she ran her fingers through his hair held no trace of anger or bitterness. It seemed she was happiest at The Kingslayers side. “But I’m much more likely to break it. They always did say I was soft hearted.”_


	7. The Roads Lead To Harrenhal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime feels that he's lost his worth both as a Kingsguard and as a man after his hand is cut from him, but Rhaella sets to showing him that his worth is not set in his looks and his abilities as a swordsman. The trio arrives at Harrenhal, and a revelation is made.

Her heart ached for him. 

After Rhaella had spent the last several nights tending to Jaime's wounds the best she knew how, Locke had thought it would be comical to watch  _The Kingslayer_ try to keep himself upright on his horse while she and Brienne rode on either side of him. The straw-haired Knight had seen her concern nearly the entire ride from Locke's camp to where they were now. His hand hung limply from around his neck as punishment for his sharp tongue. 

  " _Jaime-"_

Green eyes flickered upwards to where she sat on his right. They were so dull, so  _lifeless_ - 

  "Oi, Kingslayers Whore!" Rhaella snarled as a large hand came in contact with her cheek, and her head snapped so hard to the right she was sure the vertebrae in her lower neck were out of place. "How many of those fingers do you think he'd be able to shove up your-" Rhaella urged her horse forward with a harsh kick to the ribs, desperate to keep her mouth shut as it would've provoked them to wound Jaime further. 

That was when Brienne realized that Jaime was slowly leaning far enough outward that he would fall off of his horse and straight into the mud. 

  "He's going to fall." She called out. Locke cast an annoyed glance over his shoulder, but Rhaella heard her friend through the laughter of the Bolton men and guided her horse in the opposite direction. "He's going to fall off of his horse, someone help him!" 

The Bolton men formed a circle around where Jaime had fallen, face immersed in the mud as his left arm trembled in an attempt to push himself upright. Rhaella stopped her horse beside Brienne and kept a vice-like grip on her reins to prevent a rash decision that was forming in the corner of her mind. "If you  _imbeciles_ value your gold and your future fortunes, you  _will_ place The Kingslayer on my saddle." Her voice was smooth as steel, not an ounce of emotion evident in her expression. It was cold, calculating. The complete opposite of the woman Brienne had come to know since departing from Lady Stark. "I will be responsible for him." 

Locke stood beside her and cast a glance behind him at Jaime. "If you're thinking about doing anything foolish-" 

  "Do I  _look_ like someone who wants to get kicked in the face?" She nudged her head at the fallen man. "If you have half a mind, you'll put him up here. Otherwise Lord Tywin will hear a word from his  _favorite_ lady of the Court and your fortune is gone." Locke clucked his tongue and nodded as he parted from her to meet Jaime from his spot in the mud. 

  " _Water, water-"_ Their leader took his skin from the saddlebag of his horse and drenched Jaime in whatever liquid it contained. A sliver of relief bloomed in her chest as Jaime tilted his head up to let it run past his lips and into his mouth. "If I die, you won't be getting-" 

  "Oh, enough." Locke tutted. "Here." He handed the skin over to Jaime who devoured it in three large gulps as if he'd been deprived of water for weeks. "I don't think I've ever seen a man drink horse piss that fast." 

Rhaella stiffened and screwed her eyes tightly shut as Jaime retched into the mud. "Locke," She called out. "For the love of the Seven,  _please_ put him on my saddle. I'm not asking again." One of the Bolton men went to lift Jaime to his feet and received a well earned elbow to the face before he wrenched the longsword from his scabbard with his left hand, which had not been trained in swordplay before that moment. It was the  _wrong_ hand, the  _weak_ one. "Jaime!" 

  "Listen to your whore cry for you, Kingslayer." 

It was a sad sight to watch as Jaime Lannister, almost acting like a wounded animal, made a futile attempt to ward off the men who approached him at all sides. It didn't take much effort to disarm him as a well placed blow was delivered to his back. Brienne was off her horse in an instant. " _Stop!"_ Rhaella remained unmoving in her saddle as she and Brienne were forced to watch Locke repeatedly kick Jaime in the stomach. It was painful. Almost as painful as if it were happening to her at the same time. 

  " _Do that again and I'll take your other hand."_

The Bolton men carelessly threw The Kingslayer on the back of her saddle and returned to their own horses as their party continued forward. It wasn't until each man had their eyes pinned on the path in front of them that she allowed the tension to recede from her muscles and Jaime to sink into the curve of her body. Having him so close to her after all this years of being forced apart was doing things to her heart that she didn't approve of. 

Because as soon as they stepped foot back in Kings Landing again, she was no longer the focus of his attention. Cersei would slink around the corner like the viper she was and snatch him away, and her heart would be broken as she watched her play him like the harp they played in the Court.  _Not again. I won't be played with again._

It was over an hour later that Jaime spoke. “Why do you concern yourself with the likes of me, my Lady?” 

Rhaella allowed her hand to drift down in front of her to rest on top of his own, and Jaime did his best to twine their fingers together. It was a small gesture, though incredibly intimate, that they'd only begun doing again since being on the road.  "Because when your _vile_ sister isn't around, you aren't _The Golden Lion_ anymore. You aren't the heir to Casterly Rock, you aren't Tywin Lannisters son. You certainly aren't the same man who brought an entire nation to its knees with the death of its King." Jaime froze at the memory of her utter horror as she watched his sword slowly emerge from the body of her father before he fell at the foot of the Iron Throne. "People don't want to sleep with you out here. They don't want to be you. Out here beyond where your family can reach us, you are simply Jaime."

  "And who is  _Jaime Lannister?"_ He replied bitterly. "I'm not sure I know the answer to that anymore." 

  "I do. Jaime Lannister is the one who I taught how to read because pronouncing the words from his Maester's books was too difficult. He's the one who my brother trusted to teach me the art of swordplay and gifted me with a priceless Valyrian dagger that hadn't left my side since. You were the only one brave enough and the only one selfish enough to save the life of the daughter of Aerys Targaryen." She brought her head back to glance at him over her shoulder. Despite the mud that caked every visible inch of skin and the dull look in his eyes, he was still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. "You are Jaime.  _My_ Jaime." 

His desperate need to hold onto her grew as they continued riding on. She didn't hear the whisper that followed. 

  "And you are  _my_ Keeper." 

***

  "You wear your heart on your sleeve." 

Rhaella snorted from where she sat beside Brienne. She was so much smaller in comparison to the other woman. "As I said, they always did say I was soft hearted. Maybe it's because this  _genius_ over here doesn't know when to stop. He's never stopped fighting." Jaime lifted his head and roughly shook it to draw him from his trance. "I don't think he ever will." 

Brienne allowed her eyes to flicker over the form of the man who sat before her. "You need to eat." She said. "What exactly are you doing?" 

  "I'm dying." 

  "Yeah, and I'm pregnant. We both know neither things are going to happen." 

She made a note to ask about  _that_ later. "You can't die." Brienne replied. "You need to live. To take revenge." 

Jaime's low timbre echoed through the forest. "I don't care about revenge." He said. 

  "You coward. A little misfortune and you're giving up?" 

Rhaella almost spoke up in her own manner to reiterate that even after her entire family was slaughtered during the Sack of Kings Landing that she hadn't just laid down and died with them. That Jaime's persistence and his inability to let her go was the only reason she was still sitting here, covered in dirt and reeking of..  _something_ , and not dead as she should've been. 

  "Misfor-Misfortune?" 

  "You lost your hand." 

  "I  _was_ that hand." Jaime replied defensively. Her words from earlier that week echoed aimlessly in her mind.  _Is that all your are? Your sword hand?_ "It was my sword hand." 

Brienne scoffed. It was becoming clearer and clearer that she didn't pity people that easily. "You have a taste-- One taste of the real world where people have important things take from them, and you whine. You cry. You quit. You sound like a bloody woman!" A flicker of realization passed through his gaze as it settled on Rhaella. She was watching him intently, drumming her fingers on the insides of her thighs. Keeper still remained tucked inside the side of her boot. The fire crackled as Jaime inched himself forward and grabbed the stale bread that Locke had given him earlier. He angrily bit into the meager meal while Rhaella and Brienne watched on. "I know what you did for me. You told them Tarth was full of sapphires. It's called The Sapphire Isle because of the blue of its water. You knew that. You also knew what they'd do to Ella and you didn't let them anywhere near her. They were too intent on taking me. Why did you help me? Why did you help _us?_ " 

He helped her because he saw his best friend inside the brutish woman who desired to be a knight. He saw 16 year old Rhaella Targaryen in front of the Red Keep, sweat pouring down her brow and adorned in the Targaryen armor that Rhaegar had made for her. He saw his pride, and he saw how he failed her. Jaime saw what little the two women had left and decided to not allow the men to take their innocence too. 

He wasn't planning on staying silent when so much was at stake. 

***

Their road diverged from the Capital and ended momentarily inside of Harrenhal. It had been ages since Jaime had last stepped foot inside, but very little remained of the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms. Most of it had been burned during Aegon's Conquest, but his father held possession of it and the lands around it. That was why Roose Bolton had taken occupancy within. 

Rhaella grimaced as she, Jaime and Brienne were forced to their knees in front of Lord Bolton. She had never met the man face to face, but something lingering in his expression told her he was not to be trusted. "Lord Bolton!" Locke proclaimed as he jammed his foot into the small of Jaimes back. "I give you  _The Kingslayer!_ " 

Jaime groaned and remained unmoving in the dirt. 

  "Pick him up, Locke." Lord Bolton demanded. Locke sent two of his men to bring the Kingslayer back to his feet, and Lord Bolton wrinkled his nose as he eyed the hand that hung around Jaimes neck. "You've lost a hand."

  "No, my Lord. He has it here." 

She whispered a prayer of thanks as the Lord of Harrenhal ripped the appendage from where it hung and threw it at Locke. "Take this away, and you will hold your tongue if you don't want to lose it! Cut both of them free." Rhaella heaved a sigh of relief as her bonds fell to the ground while she and Brienne slowly stood to their feet. "Apologies, my Ladies. You are both under my protection now." 

Brienne nodded her thanks. "Thank you, My Lord." She replied. 

  "Find suitable rooms for all of our guests. We will speak later." 

A moment passed before Jaime spoke. "Lord Bolton? Is there word from the Capital?" 

  "Oh, you haven't heard?" He asked. "Stannis Baratheon laid siege to Kings Landing. Sailed right into Black Water Bay. He stormed the gates with thousands of men." Even underneath the soaking wet fringe that veiled most of his face, Rhaella could see the fear that cut right through Jaime. "And your sister..." He stepped forward until they were nearly nose to nose. "How can I put this? Your sister.. well, your sister is alive and well. Your fathers forces prevailed." 

Jaime fell to his knees almost as soon as he was finished speaking. "Ser Jaime isn't well. Take him to Qyburn." Two men grasped Brienne and Rhaella and tore them from his side, forcing her to watch helplessly as they dragged her into the castle to find the two women clothing and a room. 

It wasn't until they were standing in the same room together, alone for the first time in days, that Brienne spoke. "You try to hide your heart behind cold words and cold stares, but I've come to know you well enough that your heart betrays you whenever you are around Ser Jaime. I would be cautious, if I were you. Love does not bode well for people like us." Rhaella whipped around and dragged her fingers along the side of her thigh toward where Keeper rested. "You know I could cut you down before you'd even react-" 

  "I've grown fond of your company, Brienne." She replied. "But do not presume to know my past with Jaime Lannister. He is a  _selfish_ and  _cruel_ man, but my past has kept my affections for him concealed until you and I took him from Lady Catelyns care. Stepping foot back into the Capital means stepping away from Jaime. And believe me, that is what I'm  _trying_ to do." 

  "You're rather good at hiding things you don't want other people to know, Ella. What are you not telling me?" 

Her gaze shifted back to the window as his screams echoed in the air. Qyburn must've been tending to the infected flesh of his stump. "It is not your time to know yet. Believe me.. you will." 

***

The Bolton men had been insistent she bathed first. Rhaella had scrubbed at her skin until it was pink and raw, dressing in the blue gown they'd hidden away within the castle. It was enough of a substitute for the armor she'd taken off earlier that morning to clean; Loose in the arms and long enough for her to wrap Keeper's scabbard around her thigh. 

It was only due to her persistence that she stood outside the bath where Brienne was bathing, and Jaime had only just followed suit. She watched him enter the room and shyly averted her gaze when he dropped the small clothes that covered the lower portion of his body before stepping into the water. He wasn’t supposed to make Rhaella feel this way. Make her feel.. _vulnerable_ after she’d spent so many years building up walls that were meant to keep him out. It was the only way she knew to keep herself safe.

He had buried the memory of her, chosen his sister over her, but yet here she stood vigilantly guarding over Jaime Lannister. The same man who had killed her father. Rhaella knew what he had done in sacrificing his sword hand to save both her and Brienne, and she had known the feeling of  _safety_ when they'd slung him on her horse and he'd fallen limp against the curve of her back as if he belonged there. His breath had been warm on her neck and his hand had fumbled for a hold on her, but it still made her feel  _safe._

Rhaella wasn’t supposed to hear what Jaime said in confidence to Brienne inside that bathtub. But given that he was severely malnourished, dehydrated and delirious, she’d taken to lingering outside the room in fear that his body would betray him and she’d need to step in.

“Ah, there it is. There’s the look.” She peered around the corner and held a single finger to her lips as Briennes eyes drifted over to meet her own. The other woman was clearly uncomfortable in his presence, but she made no move to silence him as Jaime continued. “I’ve been seeing it for 17 years now in face after face. They all despise me. _Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. Man without Honor_.” There was a pause before he continued, and Brienne gave a soft nod as confirmation that he had her attention. “Have you heard of wildfire?”

“Of course.”

“The Mad King was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn. The way their skin blackened and melted off their bones. He burnt Lords he didn’t like, burnt Hands that disobeyed him. I even saw him burn his child once as a punishment. In reality, he just burned anyone who was against him. Before long.. half the country was against him.”

The burnt child had been her. She had defied one of his orders because Jaime had sought her out for something of dire importance, what she couldn’t remember, but she _did_ remember how guilty he looked when he saw her again that night - and there was a barely a scorch mark there. Just a faint mark she’d forgotten about until this point.

Fire didn’t kill a dragon. 

“Aerys saw traitors everywhere, so he had his Pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city. Leave the Sept of Baelor, in the slums of Flea Bottom, under houses and stables, taverns.. even the Red Keep itself. Finally.. the day of reckoning came.”

Rhaella felt her breath catch in her chest. There was no way he’d tell this story without including her in it now.

“Robert Baratheon marched for the Capital after his victory at the Trident. I was the only one left in charge to defend the Keep until this _girl_ comes storming around the corner. You see, the girl was my best friend nearly my entire life - dressed in Targaryen armor and wearing her fathers sword at her hip. She barely knew how to use that sword, but she was adamant she’d remain behind to defend the City with _me,_ of all people. Aerys knew how I felt about her. How I loved her.” Brienne stiffened as Rhaella pressed her hands against her mouth to silence the sob that threatened to break. “She was meant to test me. Unaware about her brothers death at the Trident, forced to send her pregnant mother away with her little brother to defend a city she would’ve rather seen burned.”

Briennes eyes met her own again. She was nearing the point that she no longer believed Ella was of House Mormont. That her suspicions had been right from the moment she'd brought it up. 

“What was the girls name?”

Jaime smiled bitterly at that question. It felt like it had been so long since he’d said it, since he’d _cherished_ it. “Rhaella Targaryen. They called her _The Dragons Keeper._ The only woman in the city allowed to take up swordplay because her father was the King. He armored her, her brother and I trained her and I gifted her with a Valyrian dagger before I abandoned her for the Kingsguard. The one thing she never learned, though, was the real reason why I killed her father.’’

  “My father went first back toward the city with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend it against the rebels. I knew my father better then that. He’d never been one to pick the losing side and I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully, but the King didn’t listen to me. Wouldn’t even listen to his own blood. He didn’t even listen to Varys who tried to warn him, but he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle. That grey sunken cunt. You can trust the Lannisters, he said. Lannisters have always been true friends of the Crown. That was true to a point. There was no way I’d ever betray that same girl who stood beside me faithfully that day. I think I fell in love with her even harder then I already had at that point because she chose to defend the Capital and to defend it with _me._ So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city.”

He was speaking it almost as if it had happened yesterday. She was sure it was something that haunted his dreams every night since then too. _I’m sorry Jaime. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted. I just want to keep myself safe._

 _“_ Once again I came to the King begging him to surrender. I sent a letter. The messenger came back with a reply that told me to bring him my fathers head, but that wasn’t all.” Rhaella sat herself on the dampened stones several feet away from Jaime and tried to hold her tears at bay as years worth of anger and guilt came flooding to the surface. “There was an additional reply scrawled across the bottom of the scroll. A real way to test my loyalty. He also wanted me to bring him the head of his daughter. The best friend I’d ever known. The girl I loved.”

_Stay here. Defend the Keep._

_You are the Keeper._

“When I went into the throne room, he turned to his pyromancer almost as soon as he saw me and said, “ _Burn them all!”_ Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds. Tell me, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and the girl you’d have died for, and standby while thousands of men, women and children burned alive, would you have done it? _Would you have kept your oath then?_ ”

“First I killed the pyromancer, and then when the King turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. _Burn them all,_ he kept saying. Burn them all. I don’t think he expected to die. He meant to burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn’t happen. But the girl-“

“Rhaella.”

“Yes, Rhaella - she saw it _all_ happen. I had intended to preserve her innocence by making her stay outside that Keep, but she never really knew how to control her impulses. So when I drove my sword into her fathers back, she saw the entire thing. I’ll never forget that utter _horror_ on her face when I realized she’d seen it. The corpse of her father, the way his blood poured from the foot of the Throne. The way she whispered, “ _Kingslayer.”_

Brienne knew by the tears in her eyes and the anguish in her expression that everything Jaime said was true. That her suspicions had been correct and the girl who'd braved Robb Stark's camp to rescue Jaime was the same girl he'd loved and betrayed. The one everyone in Westeros thought was dead.“Ned Stark found me there.”

“If this is true, why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell Lord Stark? And this.. _Rhaella,_ is she alive? Why haven’t you told her?”

Jaime inhaled deeply at the thought of his Keeper, who to his knowledge stood faithfully outside the doors to the steam room. How she’d tended to him, whispered affirmations to him and thanked him time and time again with her eyes and her actions for his sacrifice made on hers and Briennes behalf. “I am unworthy of the woman they’ve deemed to be The Dragons Keeper. I have manipulated her heart and buried who she is, who she was, and who she’ll become because I am far too selfish to do anything else. I am too selfish to let her go. She would not dream of defiling her honor and her reputation for a man like me. And Ned Stark? Do you think the honorable Ned Stark wanted to hear _my_ side? He judged me guilty. By what right does the _wolf_ judge the _lion?”_

Rhaella jumped just as Jaime attended to stand and fell right into Briennes arms. Her foot was poised to move forward, but she was so relieved and so _heartbroken_ by Jaimes story that she barely heard what they’d said to each other next -

“Guards, help! The Kingslayer!”

“Jaime. My name is _Jaime.”_

Brienne allowed Rhaella to guide him into her embrace as one of the guards handed her spare clothing - a ridiculously colored pink dress for Brienne - and extra garments for Jaime. The fabric was soft against her fingers as she laid it on the stone bench and soon guided him to sit beside the pile of clothes. He was silent as she parted his hair from his eyes and took a damp cloth to the blood on both his cheeks.

The hardness of her heart had softened. The walls she'd erected were nearly rubble. 

“Jaime.” She whispered. Green irises moved to meet her own, and Rhaella swore she saw a flicker of relief pass through them as she bathed and dressed him. Jaime would’ve been embarrassed under different circumstances, but she wasn’t just another woman and he wasn’t just a man. He was the same boy she’d taught how to read, the one who had gifted her this dagger and the one who had saved the future of her house by sparing her life. “ _Jaime.”_

 _“_ Rhaella.” Her name fell off his lips like the answer to a prayer. Jaime smiled as she cradled his jaw and knelt between his legs with her eyes solely focused on him. “You’re here.”

“There’s no one else right now. Only us.”

He didn’t realize the significance of that statement at the time, but it soon became something he treasured. That in that moment inside the steam room - not another soul present - it was just _them_. Jaime Lannister and Rhaella Targaryen without boundaries, eyes to watch or people to scorn them. There was no Cersei or Tywin Lannister. No reason to hide.

It was only them.

“Only us.”


	8. The Bear and the Maiden Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every road has to end somewhere, but Jaime's roads lead him right back to Harrenhal where he tests the strength of his loyalties and what little honor he has left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts in a little over two weeks which means I'm gonna be chugging out these chapters to get myself caught up! Thank you so much for the kudos and the comments. The more you talk to me, the more I update! Feel free to send me a message on my tumblr (morganas-pendragons) or leave something for me to see below! I cannot express my gratitude enough!!

Nighttime found him alone. If there was any part of Jaime that missed  _something_ about Kings Landing, it was the people. He'd spent his entire life surrounded by the richest people in the Kingdoms, and to be well and truly alone for the first time perhaps in his life was daunting. He chose to spend his final eve in Harrenhal bidding farewell to Brienne. 

The yellow-haired woman was in deep conversation with Rhaella when he appeared in her temporary chambers. Both women were clad in gowns, Brienne's too tight for her large form and Rhaella's loose enough to hide the body concealed beneath it. Both of them turned to regard him as he opened the door and shut it behind him. "I thought you were gone." Brienne said. "We both did." 

  "Tomorrow. Ella and I are bound for the Capital tomorrow." 

Rhaella stood to her feet and brushed the dirt from the blue gown. "Do I get a say?" He cast a skeptical look at her and snickered as she rolled her eyes. "Typical. Might as well get some sleep then." Jaime watched as she turned to Brienne and lifted herself to the tips of her toes to hug her, face hidden in her chest as they bid one another farewell. If he looked hard enough, Jaime swore he could see disappointment flicker across Briennes face before she forced a smile as Rhaella brushed past him and paused before leaving the chambers to cast a somber look over her shoulder. "Goodbye, Lady Brienne." 

  "Goodbye Lady Mormont." There was a moment of silence that passed before she spoke again. "Have they told you what they plan to do with me?" 

  "Lord Bolton is traveling tomorrow as well." Jaime replied. "He is going to the Twins for Edmure Tully's wedding. You are to remain here." 

  "With  _Locke?"_ She said flatly. He fumbled for the right words to speak, hoping to bolster her attitude as he stepped forward to see her properly. 

  "I owe you a debt." 

Brienne moved forward from the shadows. "When Catelyn Stark released you, we both made a promise to her. Ella's promise was to keep Sansa safe and return you to the Capital. She is a woman of honor and I believe has every intention on making sure that happens. Now it is  _your_ promise. You gave your word, keep it and consider the debt paid." 

  "I will return the Stark girls to their mother. I swear it." 

Another moment of silence. Jaime wondered if he was telling the truth. Wasn't his entire charade from the minute he'd been captured just a point in his long escapade to get back to Cersei? Or was he trying to prolong his time on the road to be with Rhaella? "Goodbye, Ser Jaime." Brienne said softly. "And please, do take care of the woman in your company. She seems to care for you quite a bit." 

  A soft " _I will."_ echoed through the bedchamber before she found herself alone. Brienne realized only moments after he was gone that she missed the company of her traveling companions more then she cared to admit. 

***

  "Here. Let me." 

Jaime whipped around and nearly collided with Rhaella, who had emerged from the castle alongside Qyburn clad in a loose shirt and breeches. Someone had taken the time to find her a rather plain cloak that was fastened with the Bear sigil she'd carried on the last one she wore. It was appropriate for the weather. Summer was ending, the air no longer warm, and a bitter chill took its place as he struggled to fasten the strap under the girth of his horse.  _Winter is coming._

That's when he noticed her hair. He'd grown so used to seeing how short it was when her father had died that he didn't realize how _long_ it'd become, or the fact that she'd pulled it high enough to expose the pale expanse of her neck.  

  "You look.." He struggled to find the words as Rhaella turned her head and rose an eyebrow.  _She's gonna be the death of you._ "Well.. You look refreshed. Did they mend your armor?" She nodded and motioned to the horse behind him, a chestnut palfrey that had been equipped with her own belongings and armor attached to the back of the saddle. "Splendid." 

  "Re-circuiting your brain to do everything with your left hand is going to take time, Jaime." She said softly. He brought his left foot forward and stepped close enough to feel the rise and fall of her chest beneath his fingers, which just barely hovered over the swell of her hip. Their eyes met for a split second before the curl of his fingers around her hip brought her back to reality. "Careful there Lannister, you're bordering on sentimental." 

  "I have alot to apologize for." 

He knew he did. Being under Cersei's thumb since the death of her father had drawn his attention to his duties as a member of the Kingsguard, his eyes to the beauty of his sister, and he'd failed to recognize what had been right in front of him this entire time. Rhaella had been sold off to his sister without a second thought just so he knew she was alive. She'd seen his children grow up, had blended right in with the common people, and sought to cater to their every need. He'd remained oblivious to how she resented him for not letting her die with her family. How she'd been deprived of seeing her sister grow up, of seeing Viserys turn into a man, and had been a dutiful servant to a House she despised with every fiber of her being. 

Yes. He had alot to apologize for. 

  "Get on your horse, Jaime." Rhaella stepped back from the horse as he moved to mount, hands just barely hovering over his body in the off chance she'd need to catch him if he feel. Neither of them saw Lord Bolton until they'd both mounted and sat beside each other. "Lord Bolton, thank you again for your hospitality. I'll be sure to pass the word along, as will Jaime." 

Roose Bolton smiled at her. "Qyburn hopes your father will force the Citadel to give him back his chain." 

  "My father will make him Grand Maester if he can grow me a new hand." His eyes flickered to the woman who sat beside him, and to the sword that sat comfortably against her hip. He made a mental note to have someone teach her how to actually use it whenever they made it back to the Capital. "And as Lady Mormont said, we will pass your regards along to my father. Tell Robb Stark I'm sorry I couldn't make it to his uncles wedding. The Lannisters send their regards." 

Locke appeared just as they both turned towards the gate to leave. Rhaella threw her hands up in surrender. "And  _just_ when I thought we were finally rid of him," She glared at the man. If looks could kill, Jaime was sure Locke would be dead by now. "I won't miss you, you ingrate." 

  "And I won't miss you either. Safe journey to the Kingslayer and his Whore." Locke retorted. "Nothing to say? I liked you better before. I don't remember chopping your balls off too. Maybe your lady did that before you got inside her. Also! Don't worry about your friend. We'll take good care of her." 

White hot dread curled through her as she and Jaime rode through the gates and began the rest of their journey towards the Capital. Rhaella prayed a silent prayer to whatever Gods were listening that they'd keep Brienne safe. She didn't even know which Gods she believed in, she'd spent her whole life believing in The Seven, but she didn't care who answered as long as Brienne was alright. 

Jaime was the one who heard her prayers. He just had to act on them. 

*** 

Rhaella watched from several feet away as Qyburn tended to Jaime's stump. The flesh around it was puckered and red but less corrupted then when he'd cleaned it last, which she considered a small miracle. The men who accompanied her and Jaime had fed her a ration of stew less then an hour ago, and she sat contentedly beside her horse while Jaime and Qyburn spoke. 

  "How is the pain, my Lord?" 

  "What is the purpose of an arm with no hand?" He asked. Qyburn narrowed his eyes and gently turned the stump in a circular motion to get a better look at how it was healing. 

  "Well, we have stymied the corruption." 

  " _We've stymied the corruption."_ Jaime replied mockingly. "You're a learned man. You did well sewing up this mess. You're far better at this sort of work then Grand Maester Pycelle." 

Qyburn seemed to notice that she was watching him and motioned her over. "Faint praise, My Lord." He said. "And as for why the Citadel took my chain, my weakness is curiosity. The only way to understand disease is to treat disease," He laid the gauze in her hand and motioned for her to continue wrapping it around the wound. "And the only way to treat it is to study the afflicted." 

  "You performed experiments on living men." 

  "On dying men." Qyburn argued. Rhaella settled herself against the rock and scooted closer to Jaimes leg. Her lips turned upward as she felt his fingers wrap around her shoulder and his thumb slowly stroke back and forth over the fabric of her cloak.  _Small victories._ "My studies have given me insight that has saved many lives." 

  "Dying paupers, I assume. Men with no families to complain. You found them moaning in the poorhouse, had them carted back to your garret and opened up their bellies to see what was inside." 

Rhaella shivered at the thought. "All due respect Qyburn, that is  _remarkably_ disturbing." 

His next question totally threw the both of them off guard. "Okay then, My Lady. How many men have you killed?" Rhaella blanched as he peered at her through beady eyes. "You are the only woman I've met to wield a blade. Most cannot or will not learn to defend themselves. That must mean you have seen battle. How many men?" 

The last time she'd thought about the men she'd killed was in the weeks following the Sack of Kings Landing. She and Jaime had been forced to remain behind in the defense of the Red Keep, and she'd taken out the stragglers of her brother's army without a second thought. Alot of them perceived it as betrayal, but after hearing about Rhaegar, it was a means of staying alive. If her father was alive, then so was she. Someone had to carry on the Targaryen name. 

  ''There were stragglers from Rhaegar Targaryen's army I was forced to put down during the Sack of Kings Landing." She said softly. "Not many, but a few. I'd say less then half a dozen." 

  "And you, My Lord? How many men have you killed? 50? 100? Countless?" 

Jaime shrugged. "I don't know. Countless has a nice ring to it.'' 

  "How many lives have you both saved?" 

As she expected, he was the first to speak. His feat of saving the entire Capital from a cruel death by wildfire was one that the people of Westeros would talk about for years to follow it. "Half a million. The population of Kings Landing." His eyes traveled down to her own as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Jaime knew they were both thinking the same thing.  _And the future of House Targaryen._ "You were in charge of the ravens at Harrenhal. Did you-" He winced as Qyburn moved to fasten the sling around his stump. "Did you get a bird to Brienne's father in Tarth?" 

  "A bird flew off and a bird flew back. Lord Selwyn Tarth offered 300 gold dragons for his daughters safe return." 

Rhaella stood and extended her hand to Jaime as they both turned to go back to where their horses stood. "Fair offer." 

  "Might be a fair offer, but Locke won't take it." 

She huffed and blew a strand of hair from her face. "Why not? He'd be an idiot not to take it." She replied. "Of course, if he isn't an idiot already-" Jaime held a hand out to silence her and waited for the former Maester to reply. 

  "He's convinced that Lord Tarth owns all the sapphire mines in Westeros." Jaime heaved a sigh. That one was on him and his  _genius_ thinking to try and save Brienne. "He feels he's been cheated." 

The panicked look in Rhaella's eyes told him that she wouldn't dare stand to have her newest and only friend die so soon after meeting one another. "Go mount, Ella." He said softly. "Brienne will not die this day. We ride for Harrenhal." She searched his eyes for any sign of deception and found none to be there, which prompted her to hastily place a kiss on his cheek before sprinting back to her palfrey. Jaime stood starstruck by the action and rose his left hand to brush his fingers over where her lips had been moments before. "They'd be fools to kill her." 

  "These men have been at a war for a long time. Most of them will be dead by winter. She'll be their entertainment tonight. Beyond tonight.. I don't think they care very much." 

Rhaella watched from her mount as Jaime crossed the hill to speak to the leader of the men Lord Bolton had sent to accompany them. She knew he'd won based off of the resigned look on the other man face and how he barked an incoherent order for his men to mount for the return to Harrenhal. "Jaime Lannister," She beamed proudly and urged her horse closer to his own, nudging his leg with her foot. "There might be hope for you yet." 

He watched as she urged her horse forward and led the charge back to the ruined castle. If he could see that smile for just a little bit longer, the entire ordeal will have been worth it. 

***

He doubted his actions the minute he realized the soldiers who'd stayed behind at Harrenhal had tossed Brienne into the bear pit alongside a  _giant_ grizzly, one that could've easily torn her in two if it were provoked enough. 

   " _The bear, the bear and the maiden fair..."_

Rhaella dismounted with grace and she followed on Jaimes heels to the top of the bear pit where the soldiers were gathered, eagerly cheering as they watched the scene unfold below them. Brienne stood below them, armed with a wooden sword and the bloodied pink garment they'd given her when they'd arrived. Rhaella gasped as she leaned over the railing to survey the condition of her friend. 

Bleeding, but alive. That was enough hope. 

  "Well, this is one  _shameful_ performance. Stop running and fight!" 

Jaime nudged her hip with his arm and wrapped his fingers around Keeper. "It's time to put that dagger to use, My Lady." He whispered in her ear, breath hot in the chilled air as the rain fell around them. Both pair of eyes flickered to the owner of the voice. She'd be praising the Gods tonight if she was  _finally_ given the opportunity to kill Locke. 

  "It'd be my pleasure, My Lord." 

The men around her parted like the waves of the sea as she lunged outward and brought her knee into his side, gripping the furs of his cloak and urging his head downward until he was struggling for balance against the damp wood of the platform they stood upon. Jaime took the opportunity of his disadvantage and stepped forward to greet him. "A wooden sword?! You gave her a  _wooden_ sword?!" 

  "We've only got one bear." Locke rasped, fingers tightly digging into her arm to try and pry it away from him. 

  "I'll pay her bloody ransom." He snapped. "Gold, sapphires, whatever you want. Just get her out of there!" 

Rhaella gasped as two of the Bolton men behind her wrenched her arms backward, causing her to cry out as both Locke and Keeper dropped to the ground. She caught the dagger with the tip of her boot and left it there, intent on retrieving it when she was freed. "All you  _Lords_ and  _Ladies_ still think that the only thing that matters is gold." Jaime winced as Locke gripped what remained of his right arm with steel fingers. "This makes me happier then that ever could, and  _that_ makes me happier then all her sapphires ever will. So go buy yourself a golden hand and-" 

  "Brienne!" 

The bear dragged its claws along the expanse of her collarbone and nearly knocked her off her feet. That was sure to leave a remarkable scar in its place. 

Jaime was so stunned by the action that he barely heard Rhaella yelling at him over the noise of the crowd. "Jaime!" He snapped his head toward her and took her in; Her clothing clung to her like a second skin, soaked from the rain and exposing every curve her body had gained since she'd come of age. Bright blue eyes stared at him from beneath silver hair. "You want to prove your worth? To prove your honor! Rescue her!" 

She was right. 

  " _Do your duty!"_

He hurled himself into the bear pit without so much as a second thought. 

***

Rhaella had been convinced up until that point that she'd seen everything. Had experienced every emotion that came with being human, bore witness to the most remarkable events of their history. Nothing compared to watching Jaime Lannister hurl himself into a bear pit to save a woman he'd barely knew. The same woman she'd fought hard for, had befriended and bared her heart for him to, and here they were fighting together like one unit. 

Someone had answered her prayers. 

The men holding her released their grip as the one charged with bringing her and Jaime back to Kings Landing fired a crossbow bolt into the bear. 

  " _Ella!"_ Jaime cried. Rhaella fell to her knees alongside the other men and laid on her stomach, arms extended to reach Briennes. "Pull her up!" 

With the assistance of the other men behind her, they were able to easily pull Brienne back to the platform. Almost as soon as her feet touched the ground did Brienne yell, " _Hold my legs!_ " and laid on her stomach to heave Jaime back onto the platform that surrounded the bear pit. After several moments of struggling, Rhaella wrapped her arms through his and lifted him to his feet. 

Locke stepped forward. "She  _stays."_

 _"_ We're taking her to Kings Landing unless you kill me." 

  "She belongs to me, Lord Bolton's orders." 

  "What do you think is more important to Lord Bolton?" Jaime snarled. "Getting his pet rat a reward or insuring that Tywin Lannister gets his son back alive?" 

Rhaella's eyes fell on the men behind Locke as they laid hands on the hilts of their swords. She'd resheathed Keeper before moving to help Brienne in the pit and wondered how many people she could skewer before they'd down her and Brienne at the same time. 

  "Well, we must be on our way." Jaime's voice pulled her from her trance. He bent down and smirked at Locke. "Sorry about the sapphires." 

Pride bloomed through her chest as she followed him back down the stairs and to the horses. Jaime allowed her to assist in helping him mount his horse, and as soon as the three of them were prepared for the remainder of the ride back to the Capital, he extended his good hand to squeeze her own. The gasp that left her lips at his laughter was one they'd both remember for a long time afterward. 

  "Careful there  _Princess,_ " He tutted. "You're dangerously close to sentimental." 

The lighthearted banner and touches would have to cease once they ended their journey in the streets of the Capital. Cersei would hear of his return and grasp him with her claws, pull him just out of her reach and never allow her to touch him again. Maybe revealing her heart to him opened his eyes to the way she'd missed him since their teen years. Maybe he'd finally see. 

  "Ella," Brienne nudged her horse with the tip of her boot as Jaime urged his own forward to speak to Qyburn. "You're staring." 

  "I might be." She replied softly. "I might also be admiring the view before it's taken from me." 

Brienne's words that followed were exactly what she needed - a balm to her aching heart - and Rhaella thanked the Gods for sending the Lady of Tarth to her as the friend she'd so desperately needed. 

  "There's still time." 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell have spoken about our dear Lady Ella Mormont quite a bit in her absence offscreen. Wait until you see what the future Queen of Westeros has planned. ;)


	9. It's Hard Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard enough to watch him walk away, but it's even harder to see him with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so ready to get into Season 4. There's so much drama coming! As always, thank you for reading!! This chapter is a little bit shorter because it's the end of the season, so consider it a filler.

 

The closer they were to the Capital, the more she distanced herself from Jaime. He watched on with confusion in his gaze, attempting to make some type of conversation, but they both knew why she was closing herself off. He wanted to speak out and ask  _why_ she seemed intent on hurting him.. but all he'd done was hurt her. Pointing it out would have been uncalled for. 

Then the news of the Red Wedding came. How Robb Stark and his foreigner Queen were murdered, guest rights disregarded as they were slaughtered at Walder Frey's very feet. She'd heard about Catelyn Starks valiant attempt at bargaining for the life of both her and her son. She'd wept pitifully when she'd heard of how  _The Rains of Castamere_ played to cover the sound of the blood that flowed onto the floor. 

It was all too reminiscent of her father slain at the foot of the Iron Throne. 

  "What do you intend to do when we return to the Capital?" Brienne asked as she brought her horse to walk at her right side. Rhaella pushed her hair away from her eyes and watched as the Red Keep loomed in the distance, like it was calling her back to the City. Back to where her life had been ruined and her love had been stolen before she'd  _known_ she loved him. 

  "Return to my duties as Cersei's handmaiden and a Lady of the Court. Ensure you are kept from her watchful eye, and maybe learn how to actually use this sword." She ran her hand over Blackfyre's scabbard and sighed. Jaime rode alongside Qyburn not too far ahead of her, head bowed as he appeared to be in deep conversation with the former Maester. "His head will turn and I will be left alone again. I'm always alone. Rhaella The Unseen." She snorted. "How fitting." 

  "Not anymore you aren't." Brienne replied. Her eyes widened as she turned her head to look at the woman beside her. "I said you were a good friend, and I meant it. You're the only reason he stayed in line when we dragged him across Westeros, and I think there's alot more to how he feels for you then he lets on." 

Tears built in her eyes. She couldn't do this, not right  _now-_

"They call you the Protector of the Unseen. Jaime said that  _Rhaegar_ and  _Rhaella Targaryen_ were some of the most beloved highborns in the entire Seven Kingdoms. They used to enter the slums of Kings Landing and mingle with the commoners. Provided them meals, sang the songs of old.. and then they both died, and the world wept for them." 

Brienne wasn't wrong. Rhaegar had been adamant on showing the people of Kings Landing that he would not rule as the Targaryens of Old, and so the two of them had set out to make it known that they were to be cared for and protected from those who would dare oppose them. Barristan Selmy had escorted them around the City while they sang  _The Bear and the Maiden Fair_ and  _Jenny of Oldstones._

She'd lost her voice when Rhaegar was slain, and the words of Jenny of Oldstones faded until they were a simply another memory Rhaella would not give the people around her the satisfaction of knowing. Jaime had said he missed her song, but singing it.. It was a way of grieving, a way of remembering her brother. There wasn't time to remember him now.

  "I wept for my brother, but there is no time for weeping now. Not when I'm about to enter the Seventh level of Hell." 

They left their horses at the gate and ventured within. Jaime walked ahead of them to take in the sights of the lower levels of Kings Landing, nodding his head to whoever would dare to look at the infamous  _Kingslayer._ Her heart ached for him. He'd only known the scorn and ridicule of these people since he was seventeen years old, and the only person he felt safe enough around to be  _Jaime_ was Tyrion and herself, once upon a time. 

Jaime - with his broken soul and bleeding heart cradled in his hand, seeking the love he craved and protecting his little brother from birth because no one else would dare to protect  _the freak._ Jaime who saved the life of the last Targaryen because he cared for her too much to have her die at his own hand.  _My Jaime, My Jaime-_

 _Her_ Jaime. 

He turned back around to regard the two women behind him. Thankful for her assistance to return him home, he nodded politely to Brienne before his eyes flickered toward her. Rhaella felt her breath catch in her throat as his eyes swept over her form before they settled back on her face and met her own gaze. She seemed to be pleading with him, silently begging him to not run off towards his father and Cersei. 

  "I'll see you in the Keep." He motioned to the people around him. The ones she often felt safest with. "I'm sure my brother will be thrilled to see you'd safely returned both of us home." 

Rhaella motioned Brienne forward and pointed towards the Keep. "Make your way up there, follow the road. Tywin will want to meet you, as will Cersei. They'll provide you with a chamber for the time being. Tell them  _I_ sent you. I will join you momentarily." 

***

Lord Varys turned away from the overlook and feigned a smile as Rhaella Targaryen approached him. She'd very clearly returned to the Capital unwashed and had not cared enough to bathe and redress before seeking him out in the City. "My birds had said the Kingslayer and his savior had returned." He said. "I imagine you wish to know what becomes of your sister in Essos." 

Daenerys had been on her mind more then once since leaving Kings Landing. The last she'd heard of her kid sister, Viserys had sold her to the Dothraki Horse Lord Khal Drogo in exchange for the Dothraki Horde which he'd planned to use in order to conquer Westeros and sit the Iron Throne. That had been  _months_ ago. Surely something new had transpired since then. 

  "We have.. an  _informant_ who has been keeping a watchful eye over your sister since her marriage to Khal Drogo." Varys replied. "As it turns out, she lost both her child and her husband at the same time and has since been working rather hard at liberating the slaves of Yunkai and Astapor. Daenerys sits now with an army of Unsullied at her back and two knights to counsel her. She is constantly drawing people to her cause." 

Rhaella leaned against the overlook and allowed her eyes to travel the rolling waves of the Blackwater. "I pray she'll be a good Queen." She said softly. "Westeros needs a ruler who is stronger then Joff, but gentler then Stannis Baratheon. Westeros needs another Targaryen dynasty.. and I await the day I'll meet  _The Mother of Dragons_." 

Across the Narrow Sea, Daenerys Targaryen spread her wings, and as her dragons took flight and the people of Yunkai cried " _Mhysa,_ " Oh.. how she  _flew._


	10. The Purple Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei Lannister doesn't take well to people stealing things that belong to her. Meanwhile, Sansa Stark deals with the loss of her father, and outrage arises when Joffrey is killed at his own wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I shortened the Purple Wedding... just a bit. Thank you for the kudos and comments, and I really hope you enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> I'm thinking about posting a GoT work for one shots. Let me know if you'd read it!

Jaime knew something was wrong after his father had one of the servants escort him to the Tower of the Hand. It had been a number of weeks since he and Rhaella had returned from the Capital and he'd scarcely heard from her, but Jaime had spent the greater majority of his time trying to keep Tywin from punishing her in the worst ways possible for leaving King's Landing as she had.

_"The only reason that girl is still alive is because I see her loyalty to our House, and she brought you back to me with all the odds against her. That makes her an ally."_

So to say he was surprised when his father handed him a Valyrian steel sword forged from Ice, which previously belonged to Ned Stark, was an understatement. "Magnificent." He whispered. The last time Jaime had seen craftsmanship like this was when he'd had the steel smiths work together to forge Keeper. Tywin was still oblivious to the creation of the dagger and would remain that way. "A Valyrian steel sword hasn't been forged since the Doom of Valyria!"

"There are three living smiths who know how to work Valyrian steel. The finest of them was in Volantis, and he came here to King's Landing at my invitation."

"Where did you get this much Valyrian steel?"

Tywin smiled smugly. "From someone who no longer had need of it." He replied.

''You've wanted one of these in the family for a long time-"

"And now we have two."

"Two?"

"The original weapon was absurdly large." Tywin said. "There was plenty of steel for two swords."

Jaime laid the blade on the table in front of him and took a seat across from his father. While it was a beautifully crafted blade, the sight of the rubies imbedded in the lion head hilt reminded him of the hilt of Keeper. He'd spent months smuggling that dagger around the City before he could give it to Rhaella as a parting gift before he was fully integrated into the Kingsguard. She'd thanked him over and over again, learned how to fight with it, and kept it close. It was the only reminder they had of who he'd been before he was The Kingslayer.

"You'll have to train your left hand."

"Any decent swordsman knows how to use both hands."

"You'll never be as good."

It wasn't like he didn't already know that. Cersei had made it abundantly clear that he had lost most of his value along with his hand, like the only thing that mattered to her about her brother and her lover was his ability and his physique. The lost hand was a nuisance to her, as it was to their father.

"No, but as long as I'm better then everyone else, it doesn't matter."

Tywin leaned forward on his desk and clasped his hands together. "The girl, Mormont. It's said that the other woman who accompanied you back here has been training her with her own blade. She has been placed over Lady Sansa by the order of Joffrey and his soon to be wife, the Tyrell girl. Both women fight rather well, according to what I've heard. You might have some competition."

Jaime had only heard half of what his father had said about not being able to serve in the Kingsguard anymore because he was too busy gaping over the fact that she was no longer Cersei's handmaiden.

"She's _what_?"

***

Since her return to the Capital, Rhaella had found her new quarters too confining and often spent much of her time either training with Brienne, mingling in the lower slums of King's Landing, or venturing in the gardens. Most of her time had been spent trying to keep as far from Jaime as she could. It wasn't until several weeks after that Sansa came bounding down the main pathway with another girl on her heels, similar to her age, the other beaming at the sight of her.

"Lady Mormont!"

Rhaella smiled softly as Sansa threw herself into her embrace and wrapped her arms around her middle. It had been a while since she'd seen the oldest surviving Stark girl, and she'd matured quite beautifully since Tyrion had sent her to rescue Jaime. Varys had taken a considerable amount of time and effort to inform her of all that had happened to Sansa since she'd departed for Robb's camp.

"Hello, sweet girl." Rhaella greeted as she ran her hand over Sansa's auburn hair. "I was sorry to hear about your mother and brother on our way back to King's Landing. No one deserves to die like that. I despise this retched city, but coming back to you and your new friend was worth the effort." She peered over Sansa's shoulder to the girl who stood behind her. Sansa was being uncharacteristically quiet. "I don't believe we've met yet. Forgive me. It's been a hectic few weeks."

"Not a problem at all, My Lady. My name is Margaery Tyrell," Margaery extended her hand in greeting. "I am betrothed to our Grace, Joffrey Baratheon. King of the Andals and the-"

"Please don't go through all his Titles, Your Grace." She deadpanned. "I was here when he was born, believe me.. I know who he is and the type of man he will be. I was told this morn about your wedding. Congratulations are in order, I believe. I am greatly looking forward to the event."

Both girls looped their arms through her own and began leading her out of the Gardens. "Forgive me, My Lady. I do not mean to impose, but Sansa has informed me that you were the kindest of all the ladies of the court when she and her sister arrived at King's Landing months ago. Your kindness has not been forgotten, and for that.. I thought I would allow you the opportunity to have your pick of the most beautiful outfits from Highgarden for my wedding."

Rhaella knew even from her years spent with the Septa that Highgarden was among the wealthiest and most beautiful of Westeros, and so their clothes often were worn by highborns across the country. If Margaery insisted that she was to wear one of her dresses for her wedding, she wasn't going to refuse the offer to turn Jaime's head in her direction for once.

"Do you think it'll fit?"

Laughter echoed through the summer afternoon as she lead Sansa back into the Red Keep. "Oh believe me, we have a plethora of options to choose from."

The sound of footsteps approaching them caught the attention of all three girls, and Rhaella glanced up to see Shae and Tyrion approaching them. "Oh look," She drawled. "It's my favorite Lannister. The _husband_ to my dear sweet girl over here, who seems to look rather concerned that she has not eaten at all today." Shae gave her a pointed look and hurried down the pathway to where another hand servant was preparing for lunch.

Tyrion was more then aware of how she felt about his marriage. He'd been the one to encourage Margaery to ask Joff about placing Rhaella to care for Sansa after she and Jaime had returned to King's Landing. "My Lady, you do need to eat."

Sansa clutched her arm just a little bit tighter. "I will eat later, My Lord." She replied monotonously. "I will accompany Lady Mormont and Lady Margaery to the Keep before I head to the consulate."

"Of course, of course. Prayer can be helpful I hear."

Her heart clutched at the anguish that laced Sansa's tone as she replied, "I don't pray anymore. It's the only place I can go where people don't talk to me." The eldest Stark daughter detached herself from her grasps and hurried ahead of her and Margaery, out of sight before Rhaella could catch her. Margaery patted her hand sympathetically and continued droning on about Highgarden.

Rhaella's thoughts remained elsewhere.

***

"Have you seen it yet?"

Press, parry, strike, repeat.

"Seen what?"

"Jaime's golden hand. That infernal thing his sister had made to hide the fact he sacrificed it for two women she can't stand." Beads of sweat travelled down her neck as she continued pressing forward towards Brienne. The other woman had taken the liberty of teaching her how to fight with Blackfyre since Keeper wasn't a conventional means of fighting, and she'd come along rather quickly in the few weeks they'd been training together. "I hate it."

"Of course you do." Brienne replied, grimacing as Rhaella swept underneath her blade and pivoted sharply on her heel. The way she navigated a fight with the grace of a dancer was breathtaking to witness. "You think it makes him less Jaime and more The Kingslayer. You aren't entirely wrong. It's just another thing for him to hate about himself."

They continued on in silence for several more minutes before Brienne yielded and they sat at each others side. It had been a long while since she'd been on the look over at the edge of the water, but being here with Brienne reminded her of when she'd trained with Jaime as a teenager. No one had known about this place, not even Rhaegar, and it had become theirs.

Now it was for her and Brienne.

"He used to train me down here. I didn't like all the attention because I felt it was ridiculous, the only girl in the Seven Kingdoms allowed to pick up a sword, and Jaime saw that. That's why he picked here. No one knew about it. Not even my brother." She took a sip of the water she'd brought down and handed it to Brienne. "It's nice knowing it's still here and now I can use it for a different purpose."

"Which is?"

"Absolutely dominating you at your own game, Brienne of Tarth."

Raucous laughter echoed along the sea side as the two women drank in each others company. Brienne had spent her entire life being shunned by men and women alike. Galladon and Selwyn were the only two who had ever accepted her for the brutish force of nature that she was, and Galladon had died when she was barely a toddler. Her sisters had been robbed in the cradle. Renly Baratheon had been the one to see her for her true potential and initiated her into his Kingsguard. That simple act had brought her to this very moment.

A moment of friendship with the daughter of Aerys Targaryen, The Dragons Keeper, and the only woman to love Jaime Lannister for who he really was. She'd seen it in their travels across Westeros. He adored her too, but his gaze was too focused on his sister to appreciate the woman before him. It seemed to Brienne that Rhaella had come to terms with that.

"The wedding is tomorrow." Rhaella said. "Margaery Tyrell has given me this gorgeous gown to wear, and I'm absolutely dreading it because I know Cersei will be there too. Watching me with those vicious eyes and that stupid, contemptuous smile- I have spent so long trying to appeal to her, to befriend her, that I fear she hates me even more."

"If she hates you, it's because you stole Jaime's attention before she did." Brienne replied. "You're not her handmaiden anymore. You're not her toy. You aren't a pawn to manipulate. You are free. Free Rhaella Targaryen, future Keeper of Dragons, and one of the best people I have ever had the pleasure to know."

"Careful, Tarth. You're bordering on sentimental."

"The audacity. My mistake. You'll never hear it again."

Rhaella took note of the position of the sun and smiled. "I believe you and I have an appointment to meet one Olenna Tyrell, Brienne." She extended her arm and smiled as she took it. "Come. To the Gardens we go."

Olenna and Margaery were waiting when Brienne and Rhaella arrived. "My word!" She exclaimed. Brienne had half a mind to freeze had it not been for her gently prodding the small of her back to urge them both forward.

"My Lady, please pardon me for interrupting. My name is Brienne of Tarth-"

"Oh, we know who both of you are. Margaery sings Lady Mormonts praises." Olenna replied. "Hearing is one thing. Aren't you just marvelous? Absolutely singular! I hear you knocked my grandson into the dirt."

She could practically see the way Brienne's chest swelled with pride at the comment. "My Lady," She turned her attention to Margaery. "I know this is a very busy time for you, but I wondered if I could just have a moment." Rhaella turned to walk alongside Margaery and Brienne and was stopped by the sound of the older woman's voice.

"Come forward girl. I have been meaning to speak to you." She extended her hand towards the open chair. "Please, humor me. Sit." Rhaella sat down and crossed her legs at the ankles, folding her hands in her lap as she waited for Olenna to speak. "I've spent many years learning how to read people. Eventually I got so good at it that I didn't even try anymore. I just knew."

"I'm not sure what you're implying, My Lady."

"I've been to this retched city enough to know the faces of the people who live in it. I've also heard the whispers of the Targaryen girl in the East and her plan to sit the Throne when she finally arrives here." The blood turned to ice in her veins as Olenna leaned forward and studied her with a rather cool expression. She wasn't faltering in anything she said. "Rumors have risen that the fallen daughter of Aerys Targaryen was never found after the City was sacked. Many of the commoners believe she lives in the shadows and waits for her sister so they can rule Westeros together."

''I always liked the Targaryens." Olenna was smart. If she paid enough attention, she'd catch the scent and run with it. "They never did bow to the likes of Gods or Men."

Olenna smiled widely and sat back in her chair. **“** Don’t worry, sweet girl. Such a prized secret is well kept with me, especially for a dragon who lurks amongst the lions.” Rhaella stood to her feet and nodded her farewell as she fled from the gazebo. The Tyrell's seemed rather in opposition of the Lannisters, and she was nearly sure that Olenna would support a Targaryen dynasty once Daenerys came to Westeros.

_Not one more soul can know. Not one._

She thought of Oberyn Martell, a good friend of the family that had come to the City for the royal wedding. The last time she'd seen him was when Elia and Rhaegar had married before Lyanna had ever come into the picture. They'd been good friends for a time, and he too probably thought that she'd died alongside her father. It was said that the Mountain had raped Elia before he killed her, and had also killed both her children who were barely babes themselves.

If Oberyn had eyes, he'd know her presence too. That was too many people and too big of a risk.

She found Jaime and Brienne overlooking an alcove above where Sansa Stark was on her knees in prayer. _So much for not praying anymore, sweet girl._

"There she is."

Rhaella hoped he was too ignorant of his surroundings to notice she was standing only a few feet behind them. "Yes," Jaime replied. "There she is. And?"

"You made a promise."

"To return the Stark girls to their mother, who is now dead."

"No." Brienne snapped. "To keep them safe. R-Ella has been doing that for you since Margaery and Joffrey decided to put Sansa in her care."

"Arya Stark hasn't been seen since her father was killed." Jaime said. "Where do you think she is? My money is on dead. There's a certain safety in death, wouldn't you say? Sansa Stark is now Sansa Lannister which is a bit of a complication."

"A complication doesn't release you from a vow."

"What do you want me to do? Kidnap my sister in law and take her.. where? Where would she be safer than here??"

Rhaella stepped over the array of rocks that covered the ridge, navigating through the brush until she silently stood behind Brienne and Jaime. "Anywhere that isn't around Lannisters is safer then here, you twat." Jaime's head snapped so hard in her direction she thought he'd given himself whiplash. "Excuse me for the interruption, I was looking for the girl who I was charged to look over in the most dangerous city of Westeros."

Brienne decided to play off of that. "Look me in the eye and tell me she'll be safe in King's Landing." Jaime lifted his head and met the sapphire irises of the woman who stood before him, desperate to ignore the waves of anger that rolled from the other.

"Are you sure we're not related? Ever since I've returned, every Lannister I've seen has been a miserable pain in my-"

Jaime stopped short when Rhaella surged forward and gripped his golden hand with tight fingers, jarring it upward to their eye level. "If I see you anywhere near Sansa Stark, I will take this godforsaken piece of metal and hit you so hard with it that you'll sleep until you're dead." Brienne guffawed as the color left his skin. It was difficult to not laugh at how fearful he was of Rhaella when she was angered. "See you at the wedding, Jaime."

He turned to look at Brienne after Rhaella disappeared over the crest of the hill.

"I have a feeling I know the answer to this, but did I do something to upset her?"

"You turned your back on her and went back to your old ways. She wants you to see her. Open your eyes and _look_ , you fool."

The rest of the day was spent in preparation for the Royal Wedding. Hair was carefully prepared, color applied to cheeks and lips, gowns tightly bound to the bodice of the women in attendance. Rhaella entered the courtyard to a thrall of people who had gathered after they'd ventured here from the Sept for the celebration that had yet to commence.

Rhaella peered down at her outfit. The gown she'd chosen from Highgarden was red with woven gold in intricate patterns along the cape and chest, though the lower portion was a rich scarlet, and the upper had a large section of the chest cut out and collared around her neck. She'd abstained from dying her hair for the occasion and knew someone would eventually say something to her about it because everyone in Westeros recognized a Targaryen by the silver of their hair.

Sansa had suggested a crown braid, and she'd loved the idea so much that she'd set to having the servants do it almost immediately. That left much of her neck exposed, though accented by the gold earrings and necklace she'd found on her desk that morning. Gold too rich for the likes of commoners, and Rhaella wondered if Jaime had sent it as a means of apologizing for his actions.

Rhaella and Brienne stood opposite of the High Table where the Lannisters and Tyrells were seated in anxious anticipation for the performance and the feast that awaited them. Sansa took her spot as the dutiful wife of Tyrion Lannister at the very end, blue eyes cast towards the table. When will her soul have a reprieve?

She was so busy doting over Sansa from afar that she missed The Rains of Castamere and the gold dragons Joffrey hurled at the performers, as he was growing tired of such a somber note at a celebration for the union that had just taken place. The young king stood to his feet just as Jaime caught sight of Rhaella - and they stopped only for a moment to look one another over.

The way his eyes stared right through her.. she was sure he'd stare right into her soul and the longing she had been fighting since they were young teenagers, barely old enough to know what love was.

"Everyone! The Queen would like to say a few words."

Rhaella joined with the crowd as applause echoed through the air. Margaery smiled warmly as she spoke. "We are so fortunate to enjoy this marvelous food and drink. Not all among us are so lucky. To thank The Gods for bringing this recent war to a just end, King Joffrey has decreed that the leftovers from our feast be given to the poorest in his city."

Again laughter rang through the crowd, and she felt a swell of pride at the action. Even if Joffrey had not been the one to suggest it, Rhaella knew that without the supplies from House Tyrell, all of the commoners she'd spent so much time with as a child would starve before winter even began.

Rhaella caught sight of Brienne hastily making her way towards her, sapphire eyes widening when she realized that Cersei had descended from the table to come and speak to them both. "Brienne,  _don't_ move." She hissed, feigning a smile as Cersei stopped before them. "Your Grace." 

  "Oh, stop with the formalities, Lady Mormont." Cersei turned her eyes to Brienne and smiled. "Lady Brienne, you  _are_ Lord Selwyn Tarths daughter. That makes you a Lady whether you want to be or not." Just having the older Lannister twin in spitting distance of Brienne made her skin crawl. She was too innocent to be tainted by the likes of a deceitful, manipulative woman like Cersei. 

  "As you say, Your Grace." 

  "I owe you my gratitude.  _Both_ of you. I'm afraid I haven't had the time to convey it given that you are now watching over my little brother's wife." She didn't need to try hard to hear the venom that dripped from her lips. Rhaella had known almost immediately that Cersei would disapprove because it meant she was no longer under her thumb, no longer able to keep her away from Jaime. "You returned my brother safely to King's Landing." 

Rhaella could already feel Jaimes gaze on her as Cersei and Brienne glanced over their shoulder to look at him. 

  "In truth, he rescued me, Your Grace. More than once." 

  "Did he? I haven't heard that story before."  _That would be because you aren't privileged enough to know what he lost._

Brienne didn't seem the slightest bit fazed and continued speaking. Had Cersei not been glowering at her, Rhaella would've laughed loudly at how threatened Cersei clearly felt by the two of them. "Not the most fascinating story, I'm afraid." 

  "I'm sure you have many fascinating stories. Sworn to Renly Baratheon, sworn to Catelyn Stark, and now my brother? It must be exciting to flit from one camp to the next. Serving whichever Lord or Lady you fancy."

A large hand covered her own as it slowly inched down towards the separation in her dress where Keeper was tucked away. She caught the look in Brienne's eyes right away and remained silent, gritting her teeth behind closed lips as Cersei smiled smugly. 

  "I don't serve your brother, Your Grace." 

  "But you love him." 

Rhaella felt her breath catch in her throat at the statement. How  _dare_ she say something like that to Brienne? How dare she make such an implication when the very woman who Jaime had abandoned, had  _broken_ , was standing right in front of her and carrying years worth of repressed feelings on strong shoulders? How dare-

_ Oh.  _

 "She's gone, Ella." Brienne removed her hand and smiled as they continued walking towards the center of the crowd. "I appreciate your effort to protect me, but it really is unnecessary-" 

 "Not with her it's not." Rhaella replied. "Cersei is the deadliest of snakes in this infested city. She will do  _whatever_ she can to get what she wants, and if you expose even one weakness to her, she will do everything possible to exploit it." Brienne didn't speak for a moment, pondering what she'd said, and Rhaella thanked the young hand servant as he handed her a glass of wine. 

  “He’s watching you.’’ Rhaella peered at Brienne through hooded eyes. From where she stood, the wedding had so far been a safe enough environment that she'd decided to keep Sansa within eyesight and allow herself to enjoy the festivities. 

  "Who is?”

“Jaime.” Brienne replied. “I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off you in the last ten minutes. You must be quite a sight.”

Rhaella scanned the area before her until she caught Jaime at the other side of the crowd, adorned in the armor of the Lord Commander and watching her with a very intent gaze. Even across the way, she could still make out the piercing emeralds of his eyes.

“I’ve looked the same for years. Maybe he’s just learned to cherish what’s in front of him.” She winked and swayed her hips just enough to catch the scarlet blush that had him turning away from her. “Or admire the view.”

“Do you love him?”

“What kind of question is that?” Rhaella retorted. “I told you no the first time you asked.” She'd do whatever it took to deny it, again and again, until someone found it a satisfactory enough answer and believed her. Rhaella had spent nearly her entire life yearning for someone she couldn't have. Seeing he was alive, watching him from afar - joy evident in his gaze - it was enough, for now.

“It’s the kind of question I ask when a woman craves her hearts desire and can’t have it, so she settles on watching him be happy with someone else from afar.” Brienne sighed deeply. “I thank the Gods that woman is not me.”

***

After two cups of wine, she took her place behind Sansa at the High Table and watched the rest of the wedding commence in silence. 

  " _Silence!_ " Joffrey ordered to the crowd, who immediately fell quiet before their King. "There's been too much amusement at this wedding today. A Royal Wedding is not meant for amusement, it is history! Time has come for all of us to contemplate our history. My Lords," She watched as the jaw of the lions head collided with the ground, and a rich red carpet rolled downward. "My Ladies. I give you.. King Joffrey! Renly Baratheon! Stannis! Robb Stark! Balon Greyjoy! The War Of the Five Kings!" 

Her eyes screwed tightly shut as the raucous commenced; A poor imitation of the War of the Five Kings. This was  _cruel_ , especially to the sister of the recently deceased Robb Stark. Murdered at another wedding and his guest rights abused.  _The people of Westeros, everybody._

"Ella." Tyrion extended his hand over the top of his chair and motioned her to his right side. She bent down low enough to hear what the dwarf whispered in her ear. "I think my wife would appreciate it a great deal if you could sing Jenny of Oldstones. It used to be your favorite song.. right? A welcome distraction, I'm sure." Blue eyes met desperate greens as she nodded, and Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief. "I owe you." 

  "You're already my favorite Lannister. Consider the debt paid." 

Sansa craned her neck as Rhaella stood directly behind her chair, head bowed as she softly began to sing, " _High in the Halls of the Kings who are gone..."_

She paid no attention to the laughter of the Lannisters before her. 

 " _Jenny would dance with her ghosts.."_

The imitation continued. Those who had been involved spared no laughter, spared no smiles. They simply watched on. 

  " _The ones she had lost and the ones she had found.."_

Sansa rested a hand on top of her own. Joffrey thanked his performers and beckoned Tyrion forward to be his cupbearer as the wedding cake was cut and doves poured into the sky. 

  " _And the ones who had loved her the most.."_

Her song was silenced as the grip on her hand tightened. "Ella," Sansa whispered. "Can we leave?" It was evident that after the stunt Joffrey had pulled with the mock performance of the War of the Five Kings that she was emotionally spent, and Rhaella didn't want her to be any further exposed to the Lannister's cruelty if she could help it. Tyrion seemed to agree. She, Tyrion and Rhaella stood to their feet to disappear around the corner but were stopped by the loud boom of Joffreys voice. 

  "Uncle! Where are you going? You're my cup bearer, remember?" 

Tyrion grimaced as he glanced down at his soaked jerkin. "I thought I might change out of these wet clothes, Your Grace." Sansa kept a tight grip on Rhaella's hand as they watched on in anxious silence. 

  "No, you're perfect the way you are. Serve me my wine. Lady Mormont can take care of  _Sansa."_

Her eyes snapped upward when Joffrey began coughing, fingers clutching at his throat, as he attempted to argue with Tyrion's request to take Sansa back to The Keep. And her song began to whisper through the trees, a final call for the King of Westeros as he fell to his knees, and the crowd went wild with fear. A song of mourning and ghosts and the ones who'd been taken far too soon. 

  " _And he never wanted to leave.."_

The grip on her hand fell slack as Ser Dontos, the fool from earlier in the feast, whispered urgently to Sansa before she disappeared around the corner. Alone and utterly bewildered at what was occurring before her, Rhaella stepped forward until she was standing beside Margaery. They both watched on as Joffrey fell to his stomach, eyes wild and chest heaving as he struggled to regain the air he'd lost. The new Queen did not seem to mourn.

  " _Never wanted to leave..."_

Jaime sprinted through the crowd until he and Cersei were the ones cradling the body of their eldest son in their arms. Then he lifted his hand from the ground and pointed it in the direction of his uncle, who had bent down to retrieve the wine glass from where it had rolled under the table.

It was a rather unfortunate coincidence she was the  _only_ person standing within a short distance of Tyrion when Cersei lifted her head and began screaming. Wildfire burned in the eyes of the grieving mother, and for the first time in weeks, Rhaella Targaryen was truly afraid of the wrath that was to befall her from Cersei Lannister. 

  " _It was them! They did this! They poisoned my son, your King! Take them! TAKE THEM!"_

She thrashed and fought in the grasps of the Golden Cloaks in hopes that Jaime would protest, but as always, he fell silent and turned his gaze back to his sister as they dragged her and Tyrion to the Cells. For a crime  _neither_ of them committed. 

Tyrion saw her head bowed just before he was cast into his cell. 

  "What are you doing?" 

Fear coursed through him as dark eyes met his own. He'd never seen Rhaella Targaryen look so afraid and so _angry_ at the same time. "Praying." 

  "For what?" 

  "For the Gods to have mercy on Joffrey's soul." 

 


	11. Guilty By Association, Or So She Believes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Seven Kingdoms recoils at the loss of Joffrey Baratheon. Befriending Tyrion deems her guilty by association, according to Cersei. How foolish she could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't remember if I made this clear before, but Oberyn and Rhaella were betrothed at the same time Rhaegar was betrothed to Elia. The ages are different for the sake of the plot.

<><><><><>

_"I have known you, as a child. I have known your heart and I have known your compassion. You are not a murderer. However, according to Cersei, befriending her monstrous little brother deems you guilty by association." Oberyn leaned forward on his knees and smiled. "And that's practically the same thing."_

<><><><><><>

 

  She shouldn't have enjoyed her time in the cells so much, but she  _did._ A member of the Kingsguard came to bring her supper at the same time every night, but other then that, Rhaella was left alone. The cell was barren except for a rickety bed and a floor covered in straw but the silence is welcoming compared to the climate she'd been in her entire life. 

 

Brienne is the one who comes to visit her first. Part of her had hoped it would be Jaime, spewing a litany of apologies for letting the Kingsguard imprison her, but she isn't disappointed when the straw-haired knight comes into her cell. "I see you have sufficient accommodations." Rhaella rose an eyebrow and leaned back against the wall. "You seem disappointed." 

  "I'm still infuriated that a man who claims to be my  _best friend_ let his own Kingsguard take me away for a crime I  _didn't_ commit!" Brienne remained silent as she shot to her feet and hurled the chair across the room, watching as it shattered into pieces and scattered across the floor. Chest heavy, Rhaella lifted her head and wiped the tears forming in her eyes away. "I'm sorry." 

  ''Don't be. You have every right to be upset." Her eyes flickered downward to her boots. "Did they-" 

  "Take Keeper?" She pulled the dagger out and unsheathed it. "Over my dead body." 

They spent the next ten minutes reminiscing and talking about what she'd do now that Rhaella had been imprisoned and Jaime had his duty as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Brienne mentioned something about going to find Sansa, and the thought made her freeze despite knowing that Brienne would be a more then capable candidate of finding the oldest Stark girl.  

  "I can't fulfill my oath to Catelyn if I'm in here, Brienne. You know as well as I do that  _if_ Tywin pardons me, I'll be constantly watched no matter where I go." Rhaella stepped forward and gripped the younger womans hands in her own. "Go to Jaime. He'll give you the provisions you need to get out of the city and get Sansa somewhere safe. He might act like an overly pompous, arrogant narcissist but underneath.. He cares. He cares far more then he lets on." She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the time she'd helped him onto his horse at Harrenhal - the little proximity between their bodies and his hands on her hips - that felt like such a long time ago. "Tell him I sent you." 

  "You know this'll be the last time we see each other for a while." 

And she's probably right, but it didn't mean Rhaella had to acknowledge it. "I know." She said quietly. "I've told you far more then anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, and I am extremely thankful for your friendship, Brienne of Tarth." Blue flickered upward to meet blue, and before either of them could react, Rhaella was on the tips of her toes and had her arms thrown around Brienne's middle to hug her. Brienne had been wary of physical content for years because of the boys who had taunted her as a child, but it seemed that she rather welcomed it as she reciprocated the motion and pressed her face into a head of silver-brown hair.

  "And I you, Rhaella Targaryen." They pulled away from one another and Brienne turned herself toward the door. "May the Gods have mercy on you and Lord Tyrion."

She smiled sadly before she sat on the bed. "I think I'm way past the point of mercy." Brienne quietly shut the door behind her and allowed the Kingsguard to escort her from the dungeons, and Rhaella was alone again. 

***

Dawn came before she realized, and the Kingsguard posted outside her door escorted her to the Tower of the Hand where, apparently, Tywin Lannister was waiting to talk to her. Rhaella grimaced as she was left alone in the quarters where the Small Council meetings were held. Her attire was less then adequate for such a formality and she wondered if it would make him frown upon her once more. 

  "My Lady, I apologize for dragging you from the cells so early in the morning." Tywin called out as he moved to sit across from her at his desk. "Please, have a seat." Rhaella swallowed the knot growing in her throat and took the seat he had offered. "Both of my sons seem to be very fond of you. Particularly Jaime. He came to me before dawn begging me to pardon you because he believes you to be wholly innocent, as do the other judges that will preside over this trial." 

  "And for that, I am thankful.''

  "He also let.. shall we say,  _another_ important detail slip out. I don't think it was intended." Rhaella felt her blood go cold as he leaned forward and met her gaze. "He said I should spare you because you're  _Rhaella Targaryen_. The last Targaryen living in Westeros under the seal of a House her father despised." 

_No. No. Not now._ Her guard went up almost immediately and she began babbling every defense she could think of, cursing Jaime's utter and complete stupidity. "Lord Tywin, I-" 

  "Please, Rhaella. There's no need to defend yourself. Jaime told me the entire story. Do remember I was around you almost your entire childhood." A sigh of relief broke past her lips as she leaned back into her chair. "Your father and I had a rather advantageous alliance for many of the years that I was his Hand. I respected him as much as I could until his madness consumed him. I always believed you and your brother to be a fitting Queen or King of Westeros, but I was not Robert. I did not despise the Targaryens." 

  “I have been nothing but a loyal servant to House Lannister since the day my father died, Lord Tywin.” She spoke calmly to the older man in front of her, not a trace of fear evident in her expression. “I may have crossed a line in leaving the Capital to obtain Jaime, but I did my duty as a lady of the Court and a servant of House Lannister. I have no wish to sit on the Throne.” _I've seen what it does to people._  

“You saved me much trial during the war in saving my son, Ella.” Tywin replied. Rhaella exhaled a sigh of relief and managed a smile. “I have seen the way you care for the commoners and for my children and theirs after them. I do not believe you’d have the motive to kill my grandson, but Cersei is entirely convinced you and Tyrion are co-conspirators. I don't believe it to be so. I see your loyalty to this House and to my children and grandchildren. You don't have the motive." He leaned outward and plucked the quill from the inkwell. "To appease my daughter, we will keep you in the cells until the trial has concluded. I wanted you to see me sign this." He scrawled a signature across the bottom of the parchment. "A pardon. Your pardon." 

  "I cannot express my gratitude enough, Lord Hand." Rhaella said. "Thank you. I truly appreciate what you are doing, both in keeping my secret and pardoning me. However... I do have one inquiry." He rose an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. "My job was protecting Sansa. She was your key to the North, my Lord. What will I do with her having vanished from the Capital?”

“You are an exceptional swordplayer. I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach as the Kingsguard on duty escorted her from the Tower back to the Cells. Rhaella was anticipating another day alone with nothing but her thoughts and the dagger they still hadn't removed from her, but she was shocked to find that Jaime was the one waiting for her when she arrived. "Ser Kettleblack, you are relieved of duty for the time being. Mostly because you failed to  _check_ your prisoner for weapons." 

Rhaella grit her teeth behind closed lips as Jaime met her gaze, slowly kneeling down to pull Keeper from where it hid inside of her shoe. "I believe that is  _my_ weapon, Ser Jaime." She snarled. Jaime handed the dagger to his fellow Kingsguard before gripping her arm and pulling her inside of her cell, locking the door behind him in the process. "The audacity you have." 

  "You're a  _prisoner_ here, Rhaella." Jaime snapped in reply. "If you don't want my men to kill you, it's best to cooperate." 

  "What, like how I cooperated when you allowed Cersei to scream at me and your Kingsguard to drag me in here for a crime I didn't commit?" Jaime winced as she turned her back to him and fell into her bed. "Not to mention that now your entire  _family_ knows about how you saved Rhaella Targaryen. Why did your dad let me go? Why didn't he just kill me like you slaughtered my father? Why-" 

Her rage sparked when Jaime knelt in front of her bed and stared at her with the coldest green eyes she'd ever seen. "Watch your  _tongue_ , woman." He said lowly. "I spent over an hour convincing him of your innocence, and he's seen how you cared for Tommen, Joff and Myrcella. He pays more attention to Cersei then he does to Tyrion and I. I think he knows about how she treats you." 

He had replayed that conversation with his father a hundred times since leaving the Tower of the Hand, but the same words kept sticking out. " _I care for her a great deal."_ What on Earth did that mean? Why was his statement so ambiguous? Why was he so conflicted about this woman?  _Why, why, **why?**_

 "I only have one thing to say to you, Jaime." He lifted his eyes to meet her own, only inches away, and shining with tears. Whatever was going on inside her head was going to rip her apart, and it would be his doing. "What are you doing here?" 

He didn't want to ask her. Part of him thinks it's Cersei's venom dripping into his eyes, tainting his vision of the woman in front of him, but still the nagging thought of  _would she really do it_ pressed deeper into his mind. 

  "I have to know. I have to-" 

  "No, you can’t _really_ be insinuating that _I_ killed your son?” Rhaella scoffed as Jaime continued to watch her pace the room. “I have known you for _decades._ We were best friends as children, I lo-“ _Loved you._ "Lost you when you were knighted and placed in the Kingsguard, and then killed my father in front of my own eyes. Brienne and I _rescued_ you from Catelyn Stark. Even after all we’ve been through.. you still have the audacity to insinuate I killed your son?!” Jaime winced as she bent down and gripped his stump in her hands ever so gently, unclasping his golden hand before he could even react. Not once had she been rough with him. Not once. “This is not _you_ , Jaime. This hand, the armor.. this is _Cersei._ The man I encountered at Harrenhal would know me. Has known me. He'd never think something so ludicrous!” 

He shivered as she pressed the ghost of a kiss upon the fabric his hand usually fastened to. “Rhaella,” Jaime swallowed the knot in his throat. “That man is sitting in front of you.”

“Then _show_ me. _Prove_ to me that this is the same Jaime who gave me my dagger. Prove it to me by giving Brienne what she needs to find Sansa and keep her _away_ from Cersei. That's if you're Jaime, the one who called me his Keeper. As far as I’m concerned, that man died the same day as Aerys Targaryen.”

***

He proved it by confronting Cersei when she beckoned him to her chambers that same night. He'd had a pair of clean clothes and supper brought to her cell before leaving, quietly nodding his farewell. He didn't blame Rhaella for her anger. Jaime would've been mad at himself too if he'd watched his best friend be dragged away and had done nothing about it. 

  "You sent for me, Your Grace?" 

  " _Your Grace._ How formal of you. How many Kingsguard are posted outside Tommen's door?" 

Jaime stepped deeper into the room and shut the door behind him. "Ser Boros is on duty tonight, tomorrow I believe-" 

  "So one? You have one man guarding the future King?" Cersei said. 

  "I promise you Tommen is safe. We're protecting him." 

He watched as she downed the remaining wine in her glass. "Like you protected Joffrey?" He tried to hide the wince at the bitterness behind her words, thankful she was paying more attention to her drink then to him. "Why did Catelyn Stark set you free?" 

  "What?" 

  "I've been wondering for months, ever since the cow and the silver haired  _beauty_ brought you back to the Capital. Why did she set you free?" 

  "You know why." Jaime said. "She hoped I'd send her daughters back to her. Rhaella and I both." 

Cersei stood to her feet and moved around the dining table to stand across from him. "She hoped, or did you promise?" 

  "I swore by all the Gods that if her daughters were alive, I'd return them to her." 

  "So you swore a  _sacred_ vow to the enemy?" 

It comes out a lot easier then it should. "I wanted to get back to you. Should I have told her to screw off?" 

Jaime had seen that contemptuous look on his sisters face a hundred times or more. He'd seen it when Rhaella had been her handmaiden, he'd seen it when Rhaella watched her play with her babes, he'd seen it again and  _again_ and had only just now begun to look. 

  "So you didn't mean it then? You have no loyalty to Catelyn Stark?" 

  "Catelyn Stark is dead." 

  "So if I told you to leave the Capital right now and find Sansa, the one who Rhaella took under her wing, would you do it?"

_ No. No. No. No. No.  _

His silence was enough of an answer for her, so Cersei continued as she refilled her wine glass. "I know you went to see Tyrion and Rhaella. That creature and his  _accomplice_ who murdered our son." 

  "I had to see them. I had to know for myself." 

There's hope in her eyes. Hope that she'll agree with him. Hope that Cersei can  _finally_ get rid of Rhaella Targaryen and have him all to herself, like she's wanted since this entire charade began when they were children. 

  "And?" She asked. 

  "Tyrion didn't do it, Cersei. And Rhaella? She has no motive. She helped you  _raise_ our children, remember? Was there for you when Robert was whoring about? You only went after her because she was the closest thing to Tyrion, and given that they're good friends, you thought it best to accuse them of regicide together instead of individually." 

The hope dies just as fast as it came, and is replaced with rage. 

  "You've always pitied him, our poor little brother." She spat. "Abused by the world, despised by his father and sister. He'd kill us all if he could. And  _sweet,_ beautiful Rhaella Targaryen.. the only woman in the whole of Westeros insane enough to be his  _friend._ How pathetic." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "I want four men at Tommen's door, day and night." Jaime opened his mouth to speak. "And that will be  _all,_ Lord Commander." 

He left her quarters without another word. 

***

_ Oh Lord.. Oh Lord, what have I done? _

_ I've fallen in love with a man on the run _

The sweet sound of a woman's voice echoed through the vacant cells of the Red Keep as Oberyn Martell continued making his way towards the opposite end. Despite what he'd already been told from Tywin about Lady Mormont's innocence, he'd been instructed to see for himself and relay his belief about her involvement with Joffrey's murder. 

_ Oh Lord... Oh Lord, I'm begging you please _

_ Don't take that sinner from me _

He motioned to the Kingsguard on duty to open the door. 

_ Oh Lord.. Oh Lord, what do I do?  _

_ I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you- _

__ "You have a beautiful voice, my Lady." Rhaella stopped dead in the midst of her song to look at her newcomer, eyes widening when she realized it was Oberyn Martell standing in the doorway. "May I come in?" She motioned to the new chair that Jaime had brought in whenever he'd come to visit her. "You know, I knew your face whenever I saw you at the wedding with Ellaria. It had been quite some time... but I never forget the face of a Targaryen. Especially one I was betrothed to." 

  "Does  _everyone_ in Westeros know who I am? They might as well now. The entire Lannister family knows!" 

Oberyn smiled. "Believe me, I have no intentions of outing your secret. I find it rather admirable that the Kingslayer went to all that effort to keep you hidden from the world after he killed your father. It says quite a bit." 

  "I don't care what it says. Want to tell me what you're doing here?" 

  "Ah, ever the silver tongued. Your brother would be proud." 

Rhaella snorted. "I'm surprised you aren't trying to kill me now for the stunt Rhaegar pulled at that tourney with Lyanna Stark. I was sitting  _right_ next to your sister, and he still went and gave that crowd of roses to Lyanna. Barely a man and choosing another woman over his wife in front of a crowd of people." She remembered it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Rhaegar had gotten married to Elia rather young and she had given Rhaella a niece and nephew she'd loved  _fiercely._ Her betrothal with Oberyn had ended with the news about her infertility. "I loved my brother, but he was an idiot when it came to love." 

  "We as human beings are idiots when it comes to love." 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "No offense, Oberyn.. but you're not here to discuss the past. I figured you'd come to the wedding for revenge against Elia's murderer," Rhaella still didn't know who had committed it, given that she'd been with Jaime when it had happened. "But why are you  _here?_ In this cell, with a girl you were previously betrothed to?" 

  "I have known you, as a child. I have known your heart and I have known your compassion. You are not a murderer. However, according to Cersei, befriending her monstrous little brother deems you guilty by association." Oberyn leaned forward on his knees and smiled. "And that's practically the same thing. I came down here to see what all the fuss was about. Lord Tywin and Mace have deemed you innocent. I was the last to give my input."

  "And?" 

Oberyn stood to his feet and feigned a smile.  

  ''Mercy has smiled upon you this day, Lady Targaryen." 

***

  "Ser Jaime Lannister. Knighted and named to the Kingsguard in his sixteenth year. At the Sack of King's Landing, murderer his King Aerys Targaryen and was pardoned by Robert Baratheon. Thereafter known as  _The Kingslayer._ " 

  "It's the duty of the Lord Commander to fill those pages." Both Jaime and Brienne looked to the sword that hung in the rack behind them. "And there's still room left on mine." He picked up the blade and studied it in his grasp - right down to the lions head hilt - before handing it over to Brienne. 

  "Valryian steel." 

  "It's yours." Brienne recoiled at the words and moved to shove the blade back into Jaimes hands. She should've known Rhaella was telling the truth when she said that Jaime would outfit her to retrieve Sansa. "It was reforged from Ned Starks sword. You'll use it to defend his daughter. You swore an oath to return the Stark girls to their mother. Lady Stark is dead, Arya probably is too but there's still a chance to find Sansa and get her somewhere safe. Also..  I've got something else for you." He moved to the armor rack and removed the cloth, revealing a beautiful set of forged dark armor. "I hope I got the measurements right." 

  "I'll find her, for Lady Catelyn. For you, and for Rhaella." Rhaella had  _said_ Jaime often showed his affection through his actions. Brienne was beginning to notice that the more Rhaella spoke of the  _Golden Lion,_ the more she found out to be right. 

  "I almost forgot. I have one more gift." 

His other gift is Podrick Payne, Tyrion's previous squire. He led Brienne to the outskirts of the city where Bronn and the young squire were waiting for them, horses in hand, to leave the Capital in search of Sansa Stark. Brienne adamantly refused him time and time again, but somehow Jaime managed to talk her into taking him under her wing to go and find Sansa. He could see the reluctance in the blues of her eyes as she sheathed her weapon and lifted her gaze to meet his own. 

  "They say the best swords have names. Any ideas?" 

A moment passed before she said, " _Oathkeeper."_ and the world felt like it was going to fall out from beneath Jaimes feet. 

  "Goodbye Brienne." 

Jaime watched as Brienne and Podrick disappeared through the trees. She barely spared him a glance over her shoulder before her focus turned to her mission at hand: To fulfill her promise to Catelyn Stark and safely return Sansa home. As to where home would be now.. he didn't know. Jaime sincerely hoped that this action would make Rhaella  _see_ how serious he was about keeping this oath. He had to keep one. Just one. 

However, Brienne was gone. She was fulfilling her duty. Now it was time for him to fulfill his: Keeping Rhaella and Tyrion alive. 

_May The Gods have mercy on them this day._

 


	12. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah Mormont had thought her long dead, but when he receives his pardon and a scroll from Rhaella Targaryen, his entire world is shaken. 
> 
> In Westeros, the trial continues. Rhaella desires to be seen, and Jaime bargains for his brothers life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes have begun, kiddos, so updates will be a bit slower! Thank you so much for the attention this fic is getting. I have so much love in my heart for these two. Let me know what you think!
> 
> [ Episodes: The Laws of Gods and Men, Mockingbird, The Mountain and The Viper ]

 

  She had spent so many years trapped in this Keep. Forced to cater to his sisters every demand, her heritage destroyed and her voice taken from her. Jaime realized how much he'd grown to miss the sound of her voice after she and Brienne had returned him to the safety of King's Landing and ultimately parted from his side. Brienne of Tarth had been livid when she'd found out about Rhaella's incarceration, but yet she'd still come to him to be armored and sent off in search of Sansa Stark. 

Jaime had spent years yearning to hear her song, and now it seemed he was never without it. 

 _Jenny of Oldstones_ echoed along the halls of the dungeons as he motioned to the Kingsguard standing guard outside of Tyrion's cell to open the door. The judges for the trial had been picked, a jury built, and now all that remained was for the witnesses to be called to the stand and a verdict to be made. 

  "Let me guess," Tyrion called out as Jaime stepped into the cell. "I've been pardoned." The older Lannister shifted beneath the weight of his armor as he eyed his younger brother, who gazed up in confusion at the other Kingsguards as they fastened manacles around his wrists. "Really?"

Jaime stiffened. He'd never liked to be the subject of Tyrions scrutiny, and he would've much rather seen him on the _other_ side of this particular predicament, but duty came above family. "These were fathers orders." He replied softly. ''Rhaella was pardoned before the jury and judges were even picked, courtesy of father and his favoritism. He saw no reason for her to be tried." 

  "He always did say she was most loyal to House Lannister." Tyrion cocked his head as Jaimes gaze fell to the ground. "And to the Golden Lion himself." 

  "I don't deserve her loyalty."

He was right, and Tyrion knew it. It seemed that his younger brother was the only other person besides Brienne who knew without a doubt the feelings he harbored for that woman with the ruby-hilted dagger and the eyes that mirrored the ferocity of the dragon, and the heart bigger then the entirety of Westeros. And yet there Rhaella Targaryen sat, locked away in a cell because of Cersei, with nothing but her songs to keep her company.  _So much for loyalty._

"You may be right, you don't." Tyrion quipped as Jaime led him through the halls and to the main doors of the Throne Room. "But that doesn't mean she won't give it to you anyway." 

***  

Jaime wondered if Tywin was foolish enough to profess to an entire group of people about the Targaryen that lived within the walls of the Red Keep. His father sat high in the Iron Throne almost as if he were the most powerful man in Westeros, his expression cold and calculating as he focused his attention on Tyrion. His younger brother stood on a pedestal elevated above the crowd almost as if he were a relic on display for the world to see. A  _human being._

  " _Lady Ella of House Mormont has been pardoned from this trial under the investigation of myself and the judges who sit before me,"_ Cersei stiffened in her chair and her head snapped over to gaze at their father. " _For there was no substantial evidence to prove that she was a co-conspirator in the death of the King."_

He breathed a sigh of relief. She would go on living another day. 

From across the throne room, Cersei scowled. He was slipping farther and farther away from her then she was comfortable with. 

*** 

  " _You'd condemn your own son to death?"_

Tywin waved his hand dismissively as he began eating the meal that the servants had placed before him. "I'm not condemning anyone," He replied. "The trial is not over. Not to mention that if Cersei had her way,  _Rhaella_ would be in that chair and she'd be dead before you could even lift a finger. The girl is useful. You're lucky we still have her." 

Dread settled in Jaimes stomach as he waited for the inevitable  _and._

 "You've always hated Tyrion." 

  "He killed his King!" 

  "As did I!" 

Uneasy silence settled as the two Lannisters eyed each other. The murder of Aerys had not been spoken about at length in over a decade, but now that Tywin was aware of his daughter living in the Keep, Jaime was sure it was bound to be the topic of conversation for the Lannisters far more frequently. He'd never told his father about how she'd seen her father slain, or her infertility, or the fact that he'd  _spared_ her life instead of taken it. Jaime valued Rhaella's heart, and Tywin valued her worth. There lay the problem.

  "Do you know the last order that the Mad King gave me? It was to bring him your head, and the head of his eldest daughter!" Jaime snapped. He remembered it remarkably well, the way his world twisted and turned and  _screamed_ when she stood in front of him; Her fathers words burned into his memory, but his eyes solely set on the Targaryen in the obsidian armor with a wild look of desperation and fear in her eyes. "I saved your life so you could murder my brother? So you could let Cersei accuse Rhaella of something so far fetched at every turn-" 

  "It won't be murder, it will be justice." 

  " _Justice?!"_

 "I am performing my sworn duty as Hand of The King!" He replied. "If Tyrion is found guilty, he will be punished accordingly." 

Jaime's hand slid down to the hilt of his sword as he fumbled for his next words, careful not to provoke his father to anger. "Once you said, " _Family is what lives on. All that lives on._ " You told me about a dynasty that would last a thousand years." He said. "What happens to that if Tyrion dies? I'm a Kingsguard, forbidden by oath to carry on the family line." 

  "I'm well aware of your oath." 

  "What happens to your name? Who carries the lion banner into future battles? Your nephews? Lancel Lannister? Others whose names I don't even remember?"

  "What happens to my dynasty if I spare the life of my grandsons killer?" 

Tywin seemed to be understanding what Jaime's entire purpose was in this negotiation. 

  "It survives through me." Resignation dawned across his face as the gold of his Lord Commander armor shimmered in the sunlight. "I'll leave the Kingsguard. I'll marry Rhaella, seeing as that would be the only reason why you haven't told the whole of Westeros about her true heritage. You want her to bear my heirs." Jaime would've been lying if he hadn't thought about it before - Rhaella Targaryen, swollen with  _his_ child - but he thought more about how much she probably hated him now then she had in their entire relationship. A family with the one woman who had been hidden from him for the greater part of seventeen years, forced to do nothing but watch as he sought after another woman? Not to mention her supposed case of infertility confirmed by the Grand Maester, who Cersei would not even let within a foot of her? "I'll take my place as your son and heir if you let Tyrion live." 

  "Done. When the testimony is concluded and the verdict rendered, Tyrion will be given the chance to speak. He'll plead for mercy and I'll allow him to join the Nights Watch."  _Well, it's better then being dead. "_ In three days time he'll depart for Castle Black and live his life at The Wall. Rhaella will be released from the cells and the two of you will go to Casterly Rock. You will marry and father children named Lannister, and you'll never turn your back on your family again." 

Jaime swallowed the bile in his throat. This was not bound to end well. 

  "You have my word." 

  "And you have mine." 

He departed before Tywin could utter another word. 

***

She didn't have to strain her ears to hear Jaime and Tyrion going at it down the hall. After he'd been brought back from his trial, The Kingsguard had placed the youngest Lannister in the cell next to her own per Jaime's order. Probably to lessen the distance between them. "You're both  _idiots."_ Rhaella whispered as she stood to her feet and moved to the nearest wall to listen to their conversation more clearly through the gaps in the stones. 

  " _I couldn't listen to her, standing there and telling her lies."_ Her heart sank as she realized Tyrion was speaking of Shae. " _I couldn't do it."_

_"You fell in love with a whore."_

_"Yes, I fell in love with a whore.. and you were once in love with the Mad King's daughter."_ Rhaella pressed her hand against her mouth to silence her gasp. " _I was stupid enough to think she'd fallen in love with me, but I don't have to look at Rhaella twice to know how she feels about you."_

Rhaella moved away from the wall and sank to her knees in front of her bed, eyes blurring with unshed tears as she buried her head between her knees. Most of her time inside of this cell had been occupied with thinking of what was going to happen  _after_ she left it, now that Tywin knew of her true heritage as a Targaryen. Had it been twenty years ago, she and Jaime would've been married off and sent to Casterly Rock without so much as a complaint. 

Then Cersei had come in and taken him away from her. She'd very clearly made her affection known through her actions -  _did she really have to tell him how she felt? -_ but maybe Jaime was the type of a man who needed verbal confirmation of things like that. 

  " _I can't save you this time either."_ Jaimes voice seeped through the cracks in the stones. " _My training has proved that I can't even beat a stable boy with my left hand."_ Her mind drifted back to the day they'd been taken by the Bloody Mummers - the bitterness and anger in her voice - when she'd said he was nothing but his sword hand and the most screwable man in Westeros.  _What am I becoming? Where did my heart go?_

Rhaegars smile flashed behind her eyes. He would've chastised her for being so forlorn, told her to apologize to Jaime for pigheadedness and made good with The Kingslayer. Her brother  _had_ admired him, once upon a time. Once upon a time before a war and Lyanna Stark had torn the eldest Targaryen children apart. 

  "Jaime." His head snapped upward and over to the window on her cell door just as he bid his brother farewell, eyes cast on the door parallel to his own as Rhaella rushed upward to meet him. "Jaime,  _please-_ Can we talk, just for a moment? I won't keep you long." Jaime nodded to the guard and motioned for the keys, quietly unlocking the cell door before he stepped inside. 

Rhaella knew just by the way he stood and the aversion of his eyes that he was waiting for the sharp tongue to crack with its venomous words as it had the last time he stood inside of this room. He'd grown used to her anger now, used to the way her eyes reflected the fury of the dragon that had yet to wake within her. "If you're going to chastise me, please do it now so I can move past it-" 

  "I'm not going to chastise you, Jaime. I won't scold you, order your around. I'm not your father." His expression softened as Rhaella emerged from the light. It had been a number of days since she'd had a proper bath. Her hair was streaked with dirt as were her hands and under her fingernails, her tunic soiled and reeking of.. something. Whatever it was, he wasn't fond of it. "I want to say I'm  _sorry._ " 

  "For what?" 

She inhaled deeply and slowly extended her hand to cradle the one made of gold in her own. "I've been rather cruel to you since your sister had me thrown in this cell. That was wrong of me. I just... I was desperate,  _pleading_ , for someone to see me as  _me_ and not as who I've been since my father died. I am-" Jaime took another step forward and hesitantly brought his hand up to cup her jaw and wipe her tears with the pad of his thumb. "I am  _Rhaella Targaryen_ and I am so very tired of hiding. I just.." 

_Open your eyes and look at her, you fool._

 "I just want to be seen." 

He was so hesitant around her. They'd spent the better part of the last several months dancing around each other, a predator and the prey, both too afraid to act. Eventually they were both bound to fall to the desire and both of them would be doomed. "I do see you." Jaime whispered. His free hand snaked around the swell of her hip and pulled her closer to him. "I have  _always_ seen you as you. Never the story I fabricated you to be, not Ella Mormont.. just  _you._ " 

The only sound in the room during that moment was the unsteady, erratic breathing and the ever-frantic pounding of their hearts. Jaime couldn't move from his spot as she sank into the warmth of his embrace, winding her arms around his neck as he settled his forehead against her own. There was no Cersei, no Tyrion, no Tywin and no one here to watch their encounter. No one else. 

Just them. 

  " _Thank you."_ He whispered. The slightest upturn of her lips was his answer as they pulled away from one another, and Jaime suddenly realized why he'd really come into this cell to begin with. "On that note.. there is something of dire importance I must tell you about, and you're not going to be happy about it." He wrapped his left hand around her arm and ushered her to sit on the bed. "Tyrion has requested a trial by combat. My father has made it clear that if his champion is to survive, Tyrion will go to the wall. I bargained with him for his life." 

  "I'm sensing the  _and_ here." 

  "But I also bargained for yours, to get you away from Cersei. I don't know what she did to you when I wasn't around, but it's not happening anymore."  _We are two halves of one person. I am his, and he is mine._ "I won't let her torment you anymore, Rhaella. You are to marry me and we are to return to Casterly Rock where I will live as the Lord-" 

  "Mrs. Rhaella Lannister? The wife of The Golden Lion who can't bear his heirs?!" Her voice jumped several octaves as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp. Disappointment flickered across his face but Jaime remained silent. "Did you even  _tell_ your father about my infertility diagnosis? That I haven't even lost my maidenhead?" His eyes widened as they stared at each other. 

  "You haven't lost your maidenhead?"

She held up her hand. "Not the point. The point is that Lord Tywin Lannister remains blissfully ignorant to the fact that the Targaryen daughter he has set aside for his pride and joy child cannot and probably will never bear children, and that his son doesn't want to marry for duty. Jaime Lannister has and will always want to marry for love." 

Despite what Jaime may have argued, he knew somewhere deep within him that she was right. His eyes had always settled on the beauty of his sister. Cersei had been one of the most beautiful women in Westeros for years, but no one had known of the  _evil_ that lingered behind eyes so identical to his own and yet so different. How she'd bore three children of his own making. Her legs were always open for him, but the more he desired the sanctuary of his sisters body, the less he felt a man. He wanted to be that man he'd been in Harrenhal.

The one that Rhaella Targaryen was proud to know. Proud to care about, and eventually.. hopefully.. proud to love.  "So what will it be, Jaime? Will you marry for duty, or will you marry for love?" 

***

Jorah knew something was wrong when Barristan Selmy approached him with two parchments. One of them was a royal pardon for his return to Westeros, signed by Robert Baratheon. He would never feel anything but shame for what he had done to Daenerys since the day they'd met at her wedding to Khal Drogo. She was pure, innocent. Driven by her goals to get the one thing she had wanted her entire life, which was the Iron Throne. 

How different she was from her sister. 

The other parchment was one he was not anticipating on receiving. It was stamped with the sigil of House Targaryen, but given that Daenerys was in the pyramid below him..  _who_ would it have been from? Her entire House had been wiped out during the Sack of King's Landing. 

_"Ser," Rhaella went up to the windows of her cell only hours after Jaime had left and wrapped her fingers around the iron rods. "If I may have but one request, I need to speak with the Maester. It's urgent."_

_"I'll send for Pycelle immediately, My Lady-"_

_She shook her head. "No. Not him. I'm talking about Maester Qyburn, the one who took care of Ser Jaime when we were on the road. He is in charge of the ravens per the Queen Regents orders. I need to ask him to send a message to Essos."_

 "I wasn't sure the girl was alive myself." Barristan said as Jorah ran his fingers over the seal. He'd expected it to be broken too, but Barristan had been around the Targaryens long enough to know who it was from. "But I'm thrilled she still lives. It means Daenerys will no longer be alone in this world once she reaches Westeros. A Targaryen dynasty is upon us soon enough, Ser Jorah." 

_Her letters began as they always did, with the following: "Ser Jorah, wherever this finds you, I hope it finds you well." But Rhaella had never known quite what to say afterward. Not until now._

 "I did not know her as well as you did," Jorah replied as he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. "But her mother brought her and Rhaegar to the Bear Islands on occasion, and she did yearn to hear stories of the battles I'd fought in and the things I had seen. Despite what the world was telling her, the girl picked up a sword and became the opposite of what her family wanted for her. I admired that." 

His eyes flickered downward to the letter, a welcome distraction from the inevitable confrontation he was to have with Daenerys about his betrayal. Just the thought of her reaction made his heart sink. 

_Ser Jorah,_

_Wherever this scroll finds you, I hope it finds you well. I was meaning to send a raven to Essos years ago to inform you of what happened in the aftermath of Robert’s Rebellion. Circumstances kept me from doing such. It is now I write you after only just recently hearing of Daenerys actions to liberate the slaves in the free cities of Essos._

_You were good to me as a child. A better father then my own even for the short amount of time I saw you on Bear Island. I remember traveling every year clear up until I was six-and-ten and crashing into your path no matter what you were doing at the time. My mother often found me with you in the midst of speaking stories of glorious battles and whispering blessings over my future in House Targaryen. I believe the Gods sent you to me to restrain my soul from morphing into that of a madman just as my father did before me. I can only hope you will do the same for Daenerys._

_Rumor has spread about the nature of Jaime Lannisters relationship with his sister. I am afraid that was is being spoken is true. However, what people don’t know is how he hid me away from the sight of the public. Changed my name, my hair, my very identity. I have lived as Ella Mormont since I was a young adult. Only Tyrion, Cersei, Jaime and Varys are aware of this. I struggle to make peace with the wishes of my heart, Ser Jorah. My heart desires what I cannot have._

_I hope Daenerys and her dragons thrive here. I eagerly await to meet my own dragon, who I hear she has named after my dearly departed elder brother. I can only hope you have spoken good words of me and that I will pledge myself as her sworn sword when she finally arrives. Please keep protecting her. Love her as you have loved me._

_All my love,_

_Rhaella Targaryen_

_The Dragons Keeper_

 

 


	13. Freeing Tyrion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn Martell wasn't supposed to die. He just wanted justice for his sister, just as she would've wanted justice for Rhaegar. 
> 
> From inside the dungeons of the Red Keep, Rhaella mourns Oberyn while learning to cope with what will be her new life: married to Jaime Lannister, the one man she'd spent her entire life wanting to be with, only to realize that she'd be married to him by duty because he loved someone else. 
> 
> What a cruel thing reality was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEASON FOUR IS OVER AFTER THIS ONE KIDDOS  
> HAVE FUN AND LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK   
> \- by the way, s5 is gonna be slloooowwwww because of Jaime being in Dorne, but Dornish!Jaime is HOT, so that's a plus

  " _You will leave for Casterly Rock on the morrow. A septon will be sent, and the Targaryen girl will be Mrs Lannister by the following night. She will bear your heirs, and you will perform your duty."_

Jaime tried not to think about the unhappy woman left alone in the dungeons of the Keep as he watched Oberyn Martell singlehandedly bring The Mountain to his knees. The elder Clegane was the most brutal man in the whole of Westeros; He towered above the other soldiers under his command and exuded a strength that men dreamt of possessing. He also had the blood of hundreds on his hands.  _A man built to be a weapon._ And here was the Prince of Dorne, ready to break that weapon in half for the justice his sister deserved.

  " _Who gave you the order? Who gave you the ORDER?! Say her name! You raped her, you murdered her! You killed her children! Say it, say her name!"_

Then Oberyn started screaming, and his blood poured onto the stone floor as Gregor Clegane gouged his eyes out with every last bit of strength he possessed. Jaime felt his chest deflate as he sank back into his chair. He remained oblivious to the smirk of victory on his sisters lips. 

  " _The Gods have made their will known. Tyrion Lannister.. In the name of King Tommen of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, you are hereby sentenced to death."_

***

Rhaella didn't have to hear the news proclaimed to know that Oberyn was dead. Even if the guards did care enough to check on her, no one came running when her screams began echoing along the halls of the dungeon. When her hands began to bleed as she pounded them into the stone until the skin of her knuckles cracked and ran red. 

  " _Elia, Rhaegar, Oberyn, Viserys-_ " Her knees buckled beneath her and she slowly sank to the floor, fingers tightly wound through her hair as tears stung her eyes. They were all there - the faces of those she had lost - and even Jaime, who was only a few floors above her, at his golden years before his sister and his  _duty_ had taken him from her. Why did she agree to marry him? To spite Cersei? To ensure safety, maybe get the happy ending she'd been dreaming of since her house had been obliterated?

_Not obliterated. Not all of them._

Daenerys still stood in the free cities of Essos on the other side of the Narrow Sea. She would eventually arrive in Westeros, and a new Targaryen dynasty would begin. That was her hope, to be her sister's sworn sword alongside Jorah Mormont and ensure the future of the greatest House in Westeros. 

  "Rhaegar." Tears trickled down her cheeks as a biter smile crossed her lips. "Oh how you'd laugh at my anger, big brother. Having to marry the man I was told to repress my love for? Can you imagine that? Spending all these years hiding my feelings for Jaime Lannister only to be told I am to marry him for  _duty_. He doesn't even love me!" Truth. "He doesn't love me."  _Truth._ "He loves Cersei, for they are two halves of the same person." 

Rhaella wondered if he'd told Cersei about their betrothal. She could practically feel the rage radiating from the other twin even from where she sat in the dungeon. 

  "There is no happiness in my future." 

The cell door creaked on its hinges as it opened and light flooded the room. Jaime stood in the doorway, clothes tucked against his chest with his metal appendage and a basin of water in the other hand as he gazed at the woman before him. " _Rhaella."_ He chided, gently setting down the clothes and the basin before moving to tend to her wounds. "What did you do-" 

She scurried away at the first hint of Cersei's perfume. "You  _reek_ of sex, Jaime." She snarled in reply. "Go away." 

  "I want to help you." 

  "Help me by getting out of this cell and letting me wallow in my own misery." 

He shook his head. "You once told me Targaryens don't answer to the likes of Gods or Men. Stop hiding, you insolent woman. You're brave and sharp and compassionate but also remarkably ignorant of what's in front of you," Jaime dipped the cloth he'd brought with him into the basin and slowly extended his hand. "It's  _me._ When have I ever hurt you physically?" She slowly moved forward and extended her hands to him. "You should know by now that I'd never dare to do so." 

  "Ignorant of what's in front of me? Oh, you really are the stupidest Lannister." Rhaella wrapped her fingers around his metal hand as his body stiffened. "You've wounded me more times then any other man." Her voice was soft as he dabbed the blood from her knuckles. "When you killed my father, when you joined the Kingsguard, when I spent  _decades_ watching you dance away from me and right into the arms of your sister who you were fu-" 

   "Watch your tongue."

She gripped his chin tightly, eyes flashing in the low light of the room. It was the closest he'd been to her since Harrenhal and the little proximity left between the two of them was doing things to his heart rate that Jaime was _not_ okay with. "I'm  _done_ watching what I say around you, Lannister." Rhaella snapped. "I've been watching my tongue for too long. You have  _hurt_ me and  _killed_ me at every turn, but here I am.. running to you to pick up my broken pieces." Laughter burbled past her throat. "But who will pick up yours?" 

  "You will. That's what marriage  _is._ Two people who love each other as they are and work to pick up the broken pieces of the other. To love them as  _them."_

 "Maybe if you were marrying me for love, sure. This is different. This isn't marriage for love, it's marriage for  _duty."_

Jaime stood to his feet and pointed to the clothes. "Oberyn Martell is dead, and Tyrion is bound to hang soon enough. I'll tell you this one last time. Pull yourself together and stop being so afraid. Walk to that door, put on your best Targaryen look, and start  _living._ You've spent so much of your life being someone else that part of me wonders if you've forgotten who you are. Prove me wrong." 

He was gone before she could even reply.

Trembling fingers hoisted her breeches up to the curve of her hips, nimbly tying them tightly before moving to the shirt he'd brought along for her. A loose white blouse that flowed at the arms and cuffed at the wrists, buttoning just above the expanse of her collarbones and leaving much of her neck exposed. It'd been a few days since her last bath, but Rhaella quietly thanked the Gods that Jaime had been considerate enough to bring her a change of clothes and a basin to wipe the dirt from her skin. 

Her heart soared when she found Keeper tucked into its scabbard and hidden beneath the bundle of clothes. She ran her finger along the edge of the blade and allowed the memory of the sea-side cliff and the smile on Jaimes face to carry her through what was coming next. 

And while she waited for the moment he would come and walk her out of this cell as Rhaella Targaryen, she prayed for the Gods to have mercy on Oberyn Martell as he ventured to the next life. If anyone deserved it, it was the brother who simply wanted justice for his sister.

She understood. 

*** 

Daenerys paused as she fastened the chains around Viserions neck. After the older man who'd lost his farm and his daughter had come in pleading for some kind of exchange to constitute for his loss of livestock, she'd been hit with the overwhelming realization that the people of Mereen were in far too great of a danger if she left her youngest two children out to roam the countryside. 

Her heart ached as she turned towards Rhaegal. He'd never let her ride him, let alone touch him the way she took to Viserion and Drogon. He probably was more then aware of his real rider who stood half a world away in anxious anticipation for the day they were to meet. 

 ‘’Rhaella, forgive me.” It was a prayer to her sister, the one meant to ride Rhaegal, even as she closed the latch around her children’s throats. Despite the fact that they'd never met and all her knowledge of her sister had come from Barristan and Jorah, Daenerys felt a sense of responsibility towards Rhaella. A sense of devotion. The Targaryen dynasty would descend through the two of them.  _A whole new world crafted by the hands of the last two daughters of Aerys Targaryen._

Her feet lead her up the stairs to the mouth of the cave as the Unsullied rolled the stone into place behind her, and the screams of her dragons echoed in the air. 

***

  "No more songs for you, 'm afraid." Rhaella's head snapped upward as Jaime threw open the door to her cell. He was dressed differently then normal and carried a torch in his flesh hand, with an apothecary satchel hanging from the other. "There is medicinal salve and bandages in here for your hands. I'm going to need them. C'mon." 

  "What are you doing?" 

  "You and I are breaking Tyrion out of jail. That's why I gave Keeper back to you," He motioned to the weapon concealed inside the waistline of her breeches. "Because I need the same girl who stood outside of the Red Keep with me when my father sacked this city. I need  _Rhaella._ Not Ella Mormont." Rhaella paused as he stopped in the hallway and turned to look at her over his shoulder, firelight flickering across the greens of his eyes. "Are you with me?" 

She extended her hand and rested it against his shoulder as her eyes locked with his own. If Jaime needed her devotion to Tyrion to help him smuggle his little brother out of the city before Tywin could execute his death sentence, then she'd help him. For Tyrion. 

   "Always." 

Tyrion had been moved again after Oberyn's death, so it took careful maneuvering and silence on their part until they reached Tyrions cell. Jaime had dispersed the Kingsguard throughout the castle and confessed they remained oblivious to his and Varys' plan, which sent a wave of relief through her as she stood guard at the door while he ventured inside to collect Tyrion. 

  "Who's helping you?" 

Rhaella peered around the corner and beamed at the youngest Lannister, who merely snorted in reply and hugged her legs rather tightly. Despite how long she'd been separated from Jaime on Cersei's part, Tyrion had been a constant companion since he was a child and she valued their relationship greatly. He was also one of the two people in the entire world who really knew how she felt about his brother. 

  "Did my favorite Lannister miss me?" She mused.

  "More then you know." 

She pointed down the nearest hallway. "Rhaegar and I used to explore every inch of this castle as children. I know the way out to the galley. Follow me." Jaime and Tyrion remained hot on her heels as she navigated them through multiple passages and dark hallways before coming to a stop at the bottom of a stairwell. "There's a door at the top of the stairwell." 

Jaime nodded in confirmation as he rested his hand on Tyrions shoulder. "Knock twice, and then twice again. Varys will open." He hung the torch on the sconce before trekking back the way they came to ensure that they hadn't been followed. 

  "I've got the door, Jaime." Rhaella grasped his hand in her own and gently squeezed. Confusion flickered across his face before he lifted his chin to meet her gaze. Even when they'd met as children, she'd always been something that Cersei had never been able to achieve. Acceptance. Security. Warmth. _Life._ "This might be the last time you see your little brother for a while. Make it mean something." 

She tried rather hard to pay no mind to the brother's farewell, but it was hard. It was hard to not imagine Tyrion as herself and Jaime as Rhaegar, in the departure she should've been given before he'd gone off and gotten himself killed by Robert Baratheon at the Trident. Rhaegar had been her world when they were children before Viserys had ever come into the picture. He had accepted her inability to bear children and made her into a warrior. Or she  _tried_ to be one, at least. 

The words for the tale of the King that was never echoed in her head as she turned back around to face the pair, just as Jaime fell to his knees and enveloped Tyrion in his arms.  _Rubies fell like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with a final breath murmured a woman's name._

She'd spent much of her young adult years wondering who he had thought about in his dying moments. Rhaella hoped his thoughts had been on his babe sister, left alone to defend the Red Keep alongside Jaime Lannister. They were probably on Lyanna. Everything came back to  _Rhaegar_ and  _Lyanna._

Jaime's heart had never been more exposed then in the moment he'd fallen to his knees to whisper his farewell to the little brother enveloped in his arms. She knew rather confidently in that moment it would be the last time the Lannister brothers saw each other for quite a while.

  "And farewell to you, Keeper." Rhaella sank to her knees and pulled Tyrion to her, fingers tightly gripping his clothing as she buried her face in his neck. Not only was Jaime losing his brother, she was also losing the dearest friend she'd had since Aerys had died. "Make me an oath, here and now." 

  "I will do my best to fulfill it, Tyrion." 

  "Look after him." He nudged his head towards Jaime who stood at the mouth of the passage. "No one can do it better than the woman who loves him." 

Tyrion scurried down the passage as she stood there gaping like a fish, roughly jarring her head to bring reality back into focus as Jaime rushed forward and gripped her wrist in his own, sharply turning her around to face him. The only problem was the manner of her stance. Rhaella gasped as her feet fell out from beneath her. Had it not been for the arm that snapped outward to wrap around her waist and break her fall, she would've collided rather ungracefully with the floor. 

Now the  _other_ problem was how Rhaella was perfectly poised to receive quite possibly the hottest kiss of her entire existence, and she was absolutely petrified. 

Jaime swallowed the growing knot in his throat. She was  _right_ there. Panting heavily and gripping him tightly in all the right places, irises dilating in the firelight as her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. Not a sound was heard in the passage but that of their frantic breathing. He could feel the swell of flesh that lined her hips beneath his fingertips, their warmth radiating through the loose shirt he'd searched the entire castle just for her to wear. Her breath warmed his lips, fanned across his face in a way that sent shivers down his spine. 

 _There_ and  _alive_ and  _waiting._

 "Rhaella-" 

He readjusted the way they stood and pressed her into the wall, tucking his foot in behind her own as he slowly but surely sank his hips into hers. Rhaella gasped as a low groan reverberated in the back of his throat.  _He's right there he's right there he's right there-_

She pulled his face to her own and unconsciously licked her lips, standing just tall enough to capture his lips with her own when she said, 

  _“If you think I’m a fool, you should’ve befriended another woman who is.”_

 


	14. The Most Powerful Man In Westeros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lannisters mourn their loss, and Jaime departs for Dorne. Rhaella makes a promise she isn't sure she can keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly baffled that this fic has reached almost a thousand readers. I didn't expect it to get the attention it did here because I'm so new to this website when it comes to writing. This next chapter is for all of you ;) 
> 
> [ Episodes: The Wars To Come, The House of Black and White ]

_Cersei had always wanted to know everything. What they were having for supper. Where Jaime was. Why Tyrion was alive. What the future held for her. She even went as far as to scour the woods of her fathers land for the witch that everyone was afraid of. She wasn't afraid of her. She just wanted to know her future._

_But the future wasn't ready for her._

_"You'll never wed the prince. You'll wed the King."_

_"But I will be Queen?"_

_"Oh yes, you'll be Queen for a time. Then comes another. Younger, more beautiful, to cast you down and take all you hold dear."_

_That confused her. The only other girl Cersei was around whenever her father departed from Casterly Rock was Rhaella Targaryen. Rhaella wasn't able to marry with her inability to carry children, so who would dare take the throne from her? She would be a good Queen!_

_"Will the King and I have children?"_

_"No. The king will have twenty children, and you will have three. Gold will be their crowns, and gold their shrouds."_

_***_

Cersei would not have had her at their father's funeral, despite Jaimes protest. Rhaella kindly opted to remain behind and attend to her usual walk through the commons to greet the people and spare any kindness she could offer. She couldn't deal with looking at Jaime after nearly kissing him in the basement of the Red Keep, looking at his  _guilt_ and his  _desperation_ to be near her, to explain the torrent of feelings rushing through his mind. 

She also had no patience for Cersei's scorn. 

  " _There she is! Lady Mormont!"_

Wide smiles and kind eyes greeted the children that crowded her feet, eagerly receiving the loaves of bread and the day old fruits she'd been given from the kitchens. The head cook, a stout older woman with blue eyes and pale blonde hair named Cecilia, had been a servant to her father in the later days of his reign and had been reinstated by Robert upon sitting the Iron Throne. She was kind and cared little for Lannisters, which made their arrangement all the more better. 

  "Quiet children, for I must tell you a secret," She bent down to their level and bent her head low enough so the adults wouldn't hear. "For there are whispers that a Targaryen lives within the walls of this city-" 

  "The Queen Rhaella!" The one nearest to her cried out. "They say she'll come back when the dragons come home!" 

_She'll come back when the dragons come home._

Rhaella thought about the child's words all the way back to the Red Keep where Margaery and Loras Tyrell were waiting for her, giddily ushering her into the throne room where many people had gathered to socialize with one another in the midst of Tywin Lannisters loss. She hadn't cared much for Jaimes father. He'd been kind to her when it was necessary and had kept her secret about her true heritage, but he had blatantly ignored the antics Cersei and Jaime had gotten up to because  _admitting_ his children had slept together was a way of tainting his precious legacy. 

 _Here's your legacy now,_ _Tywin Lannister. Your daughter opens her legs and your son fills her to the hilt._ She poured the remains of her wine glass in the corner of the Throne room.  _Cheers to the dead and the soon to be dead._

 "You look absolutely  _radiant,_ My Lady." Rhaella turned around and rose her empty glass to Margaery as they looped arms with one another. Margaery had her best interests at heart, and they'd come to rely heavily on one another since Sansa had departed from the Capital. "However, you also appear weary after your day with the common people. I do wonder.. are you looking for Ser Jaime?"

  "My trip was marvelous, thank you for asking." She replied. "And in regards to the Lannister twins.. the opposite. He and his sister are the ones I'm trying to avoid." 

  "Why's that?" 

One of the stewards took her empty glass and refilled it to the brim. "This will sound quite absurd. Have you ever desired someone you couldn't have?" Margaery quirked an eyebrow as Rhaella took a long sip of wine and watched Cersei weave in and out of the crowd to evade her cousin Lancel. "Well, I hope you never have to, Margaery. Loving someone who loves someone else is painful." 

  "Have you considered he might feel the same way?"

That caught her. 

  "What do you mean?" 

  "Maybe he's fallen  _out_ of love with the other person and wishes to have you, but the other person won't let him?" Upon seeing Tommen motioning to her from across the court to speak to a Lord who was unfamiliar to her, Margaery took her hand in her own and squeezed lightly. "Do not lose faith, Lady Mormont-"

  "Rhaella."

Margaery turned around and glanced over her shoulder. "I beg your pardon?" 

Rhaella rose her glass and smiled. "Ella is short for Rhaella. That's my given name, and probably what you should be calling me considering we're now on the terms of being good friends. I look forward to your reign, Your Grace." 

Margaery was beaming by the time she made it to Tommen. 

***

  "A summon from the Queen." 

Jaime and Cersei stared at the contraption that sat atop their father's desk. He wrapped his flesh hand around the top and pulled it upward, jumping backward at the sight of a fake Sand viper with its jaw opened and carrying a Lannister sigil necklace within its teeth. 

  "There are only two like it in the world. Mine and Myrcellas." 

His heart sank at the thought of his daughter in Dorne, a lion surrounded by enemy vipers. He should've known that the Sands would retaliate after the brutal murder of Oberyn Martell on their own soil. "It's a threat." Jaime said. 

Cersei scoffed. It seemed that was all she did nowadays. ''Of  _course_ it's a threat." She replied. "Our daughter is alone in Dorne surrounded by people who hate our family. It's a threat." 

  "No note?" 

  "They blame us for the death of Oberyn and his sister and every other tragedy that's befallen their cursed country. I will  _burn_ their cities to the ground if they touch her!" 

Despite her cold heart and calculating gaze, Jaime had always admired his sisters capacity to love her children. Even with Joffrey, the rat that he was, she had tried so hard to love him and he'd barely returned the favor. Tommen and Myrcella were far better then he'd ever been, then Cersei would ever be. They were  _good_. Pure hearted with souls that shined brighter then starlight. Neither of them would dare hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. 

Which was why Cersei was worried about Myrcella in Dorne. 

  "You're too loud." 

  "What?! Our world is in danger and you're afraid I'm speaking too loudly?" 

Jaime extended his hand and rested it on top of hers. If he didn't play his cards right, she would know something else was occupying his mind and badger him until he caved about his near kiss with Rhaella in the basement of the Keep. "The world can't know she's our daughter." He replied softly. "We don't live in a Targaryen dynasty anymore, Cersei. It's not something that people admire." 

  "Then don't call her your daughter." Cersei snarled. Her expression reminded him much of the viper that sat between them. "You've never been a father to her. I bet you wish Father was still alive so you could take yourself right over to Casterly Rock with Rhaella and watch her become swollen with your child," Her lips turned upward in that venomous smirk as she downed the remainder of her wine from her goblet. "Oh, silly me. She'll  _never_ be swollen with your child and you'll never marry her." 

  "This isn't about Rhaella. This is about  _us_ and Myrcella." He countered. ''If I had been a father to any of my children, they'd have been stoned in the streets!" 

  "And what has your caution brought? Our eldest child murdered at his own wedding, our only daughter shipped off to Dorne, and our baby boy is set to marry that  _smirking_ whore from Highgarden!" She fell back into her chair and gripped the arm rests. 

  "I'm going to make things better." 

  " _You've never made anything better."_

That was a crack in the proverbial chassis.

  "I'm going to Dorne and I'm bringing our daughter home." Jaime hoped his voice exuded the confidence his body was betraying him of. He didn't have the slightest clue what he'd do when he actually got to Dorne, or who was going to accompany him given that he only had one hand. 

  ''You can't just ask Prince Doran to give her back." Cersei said. "She's promised to his son." 

  "I'm not going to ask him for anything. No army. Do you know where they're keeping her?''

  "Oberyn mentioned the Water Gardens." 

 _Rhaella. Rhaella. Rhaella. Bronn. Bronn. Bronn._ His mind went through the potential list of people he could possibly take to Dorne, but if he took Rhaella he was sure that the tension would thicken and Cersei would finally say something about why he'd been avoiding her most of the day albeit their fathers funeral. 

  "Is there anything else, Your Grace?" 

Cersei chuckled in disbelief, like she couldn't believe how adamant he was being about going off to another part of Westeros with the inability to properly defend himself. "You're going to Dorne?" She asked. "A one handed man?  _Alone?"_

 "I never said I was going alone." 

***

He found Rhaella in her chambers at work with her sword on the straw dummy by the overlook. Jaime allowed himself that moment to watch her - the curve of her arms and the intense gaze on her enemy - as she hacked it to pieces with precise movements. "My Lady," She whirled around and nearly grazed her two servants who stood within distance for when she was ready to change out of the dress she'd worn to the gathering after Tywin's funeral. "If I may have a moment." 

  "You sure you want to do that?" 

  "Why wouldn't I?" 

Rhaella turned to her servants and slipped Blackfyre into its scabbard. "Alice, Ada, if you could fetch my white tunic and my breeches. I'd like to speak to Ser Jaime for a moment, alone." Both the girls bowed their heads and scurried out of the room in search of the clothing they'd washed earlier that morning. ''Alice and Ada. The daughter of a whore and the daughter of a farmer. Their parents were killed at the Sack and I took to the family with your father. Asked him if I could have the girls as servants only a few weeks before he died. I'm glad he took me seriously." 

  "My father admired you." Jaime said softly. "As do I." 

Their eyes caught. 

  "Are we going to talk about it?" 

  ''About the fact  _you_ nearly kissed  _me_ in the great escape to get Tyrion out of the city?" She mused, taking a step each time she spoke. His eyes travelled down the length of her body and back up until she was just within reach. "It was clever, I'll give you that. Acting like there was no one else in the world-" 

  "There isn't. Right now it's just  _us._ " Margaerys words echoed in her head as Jaime took her hand in his own.  _Maybe he wishes to have you and the other person will not allow him?_ "I told you I had alot to apologize for, and I'm hoping I'm well on my way to the forgiveness I still believe I don't deserve. We both have to start somewhere." He brought his hand to her lips and brushed a kiss along the ridge of her knuckles. "I came to say goodbye, for now." 

That caught her attention. 

  "Where are you going?" 

  "Dorne. Cersei received one of Myrcella's trinkets inside the jaws of a viper. We think it's a warning." Rhaella parted from him and moved behind the divider in the corner of her room by her closet to begin unlacing her dress. "I just wanted you to know where I was so you didn't miss me too much." 

She poked her head around and smiled so brightly it made his heart ache. He didn't see that smile enough. "I'll always miss you, Lannister. Even when you're here, I still miss you." Rhaella replied. "But you need someone to go with you. Can't exactly send a one-handed man with a terrible physique to Dorne.''

  "Excuse you, you  _love_ my physique." 

Her eyes raked over the outfit he wore and lingered just a fraction long enough to tell Jaime that she  _did_ enjoy what she was seeing. "Maybe, maybe not." 

  "Anyway, I've asked Bronn to accompany me. He's been to Dorne quite a few times, knows the territory well enough, and his former experience as a sell sword will be useful once we reach the Water Gardens.'' He paused for a moment as she reemerged, clad in nothing but a skimpy robe that barely covered the expanse of skin. "There's no one I trust more in the Capital then you, Rhaella. I need you to promise me something." 

  "Bold of the man they call  _Kingslayer_ to ask another to make promises that even he couldn't keep." 

  "I know how you and Cersei feel about one another." He said calmly. "I know how vile she is to you." 

  "You don't." 

  "I  _do._ " He took her hand in his own and laid it against his face. It was oddly smooth against her palm, and Rhaella found herself missing the beard he'd grown on the road. "Cersei's game is manipulation. Mental, emotional... if you have a weakness, she will exploit it. I imagine she's done it to you for quite some time." He turned his head and barely pressed his lips to her palm. "I don't know what that weakness is. Cersei may have her words, her mind.. but she does not have the skills you have with a blade. She cannot protect herself from this city and its people. She's not as smart as she thinks she is." 

Resignation passed over her face. "You want me to protect her in your place." 

  "I could think of no one finer." 

Ada and Alice lightly rapped on the door to alert them of their presence. "Fine." Rhaella jabbed a thumb into his chest. "I'll protect Cersei while you're in Dorne. Come back soon or I might just kill her myself." The way he smiled made her heart ache as he pressed a hasty kiss on her brow before moving to duck out of the room as her servants began to remove her gown. "Wait, Jaime?" 

  "Yeah?" 

She crossed the gap between them and laid something small and cold in his palm, eyes solely focused on his. It felt like a piece of jewelry but he wasn't entirely sure. "And maybe we'll talk about that kiss when you get back." 

When Jaime found Bronn, the poor idiot was too busy  _beaming_ to remember why he'd come seeking him out to begin with. 

Cersei found Rhaella exactly where she was anticipating her to be, at work with her sword in the courtyard before The Tower of the Hand. "I always did find it remarkable how you were always so sharp with a weapon, but had the  _dullest_ tongue." She whipped around and held her blade in line with Cersei's chest. The Kingsguard who had accompanied her stood to attention and went to remove their blades. "Now now, we're going to play nice with one another in the absence of my brother. Isn't that right,  _Rhaella?"_

She found herself pondering whether or not promises were worth keeping. 

  "As it pleases you, Your Grace." She replied snidely before slipping Blackfyre into its scabbard. "But don't expect me to talk to you civilly with the Kingsguard around. I'll have no other ears take pleasure in what I'm about to say to you." 

Cersei peered over her shoulder and nudged her head back in the direction of the Tower of the Hand. "Wait for me there. I will find you when we are done." She turned her attention back to Rhaella just as she removed the red-hilted dagger to begin cleaning the blade. "I assume you were made aware of my brother's trip to Dorne." 

  "Yes I was." 

  "And  _why_ I sent him to Dorne." 

  "Can you stop acting like I haven't grow up around you, Cersei?" She kept her head held high as the Targaryen girl in front of her tightened her grip on her blade. She had not been afraid of Rhaella since the first time she'd stolen Jaime away from her when they were children. Rhaella might have had the skills she lacked, but Cersei had the mind and the beauty. Her beauty had gotten Jaime into her bed, and the mind  _always_ won. "Stop feigning nice. You've spent years  _mocking_ me and  _tormenting_ me because of the feelings I harbor for your brother. Are you still convinced nobody can love Jaime but you?" 

  "Jaime and I came into this world together. We will live in it together, and we will leave it together." Her voice was cool as the two women locked eyes. "There's no room for the likes of you." 

  "If I had my way, I would've proclaimed to the entirety of Westeros about the King's mother and how she's parted her legs for her brother, who happens to be the father of said King, for thirty years. Look at what you've reduced Jaime to." Rhaella clucked her tongue distastefully. "He's broken, Cersei. A broken man who thinks his worth resides in his physical appearance and his skill, not because of the type of man he is. He is a  _good_ man. A man who just wants to be loved for who he is and not who the world tells him to be!" 

  "Do you love him?" 

It seemed that her words were falling on deaf ears. "Jaime gave me this dagger before he was taken into the Kingsguard when I was six-and-ten." She held the hilt upward and watched as the sun bounced off of the red metal. "You want to know what he named it?  _Keeper._ Because despite how much he might claim to love you and how you can get him off with an orgasm every now and then,  _you_ aren't worthy enough to hold the bleeding remains of that thing he calls a heart.  _I_ am.  _I_ am the one who escaped the City and brought him back here." Cersei felt her chest constrict as Rhaella stepped closer and closer, blue eyes blazing with an anger she had not been privileged to see in... well, ever. It looked like the dragon she'd been waiting to awaken. " _I_ am the one who tended to him when he lost his hand and  _I_ am the one who he trusts most in this world." 

Rhaella was expecting a snide remark, a contemptuous smile,  _something_ other then the laughter that shattered the tension in the air as Cersei began laughing so hard that tears blurred her vision. 

  "Oh Gods," She rasped, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks as she clutched her stomach. It used to make her uncomfortable to be the subject of Cersei's mockery, but now it just made her  _angry_. "You do! You do love him!" 

_You do love him._

 "Yeah." Rhaella whispered. "I guess I do." 

 

 


	15. The Faith Militant and their Sparrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella had heard stories about the Faith Militant's influence during the Targaryen dynasty as a child. They'd long since disbanded.. but Cersei was about to change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand readers.  
> Wow. I am absolutely blown away. Thank you all for reading this fic. I've put quite a bit of work and thought into the creation of Rhaella Targaryen and her relationship with Jaime, and I hope you've come to love them as much as I do. GoT did Jaime Lannister wrong and I intend to change that. 
> 
> This chapter focuses a bit more on Cersei and Rhaella's relationship even though it's a filler and it's very short. Forgive me if it's too OOC, but this is something that's needed to be addressed for a while. 
> 
> [ Episode: High Sparrow ]

_Take care of Cersei. For me.. please, take care of Cersei._

It had only been a matter of days since Jaime had departed for Dorne with Bronn to retrieve Myrcella, and Rhaella was beginning to go stir-crazy. The longer she stood inside of the Keep, the more likely she was to lash out and  _really_ grate Cersei's nerves. The younger twin had really paid her no mind for the last few days because she'd been too preoccupied with talking to the High Septon and learning more about the Faith Militant - a defunct religious cult - to pay any attention to what Rhaella did when Jaime wasn't around. 

Her Septa had taught her about the Faith Militant when she was a child. Long had it been since they were allowed in Westeros, disbanded by Jaehaerys the Conciliator after the Faith Militant uprising and amnesty had been given in return for the rebels who had lived to leave it. They'd gone peacefully, and the Targaryen dynasty had gone off without a hitch ever since. 

Cersei seemed keen on bringing King's Landing to its knees with its return. 

  "My Lady," Ada's soft spoken voice caught her attention as she finished pinning the crown braid Rhaella had requested together. Cersei had come to her early that morning asking for her company on the way to the Sept for Tommen's wedding, clearly resigned to the fact she would have to play nice with Rhaella because she'd be keeping a promise to Jaime. "Lady Cersei waits outside for you for the escort to the Sept. Shall I lace your gown?" 

The gown she'd chosen for this affair bore the colors of House Tarth, a parting gift from Brienne she'd found hidden in here not long after she'd left the City with Podrick. She'd kept it close once Jaime left. A reminder of the people who cared for her, and the ones she cared for who were no longer with her. 

 "Yes Ada. That would be lovely." Ada was the younger of the two sisters, bright eyed with soft features, and very keen on making sure the woman who saved the life of both herself and Alice was well taken care of. "After you've finished, I want you and your sister to take the rest of the day off. Leave me a spare change of clothes for after the wedding. I'll be by to fetch them later." 

Ada gasped as Rhaella turned around and beamed at her. "You mean-" 

  "You're free to do  _whatever_ you like to do when you're not around me. In the meanwhile," She smoothed the wrinkles from her gown. "I have a wedding to attend." 

***

  "Why do you hate me so much?" 

Cersei paused as she turned away from the squalling commoners outside. Rhaella sat at her side, elbows brought up to her chest and eyes cast forward. She hadn't been keen on the idea of playing nice with the woman who had every intention to steal Jaime away from her, but she knew what promises meant to the girl who'd had them broken by everyone who cared about her and decided to play the part of  _friend_. She'd been that to her when Robert had been whoring about in their early years of marriage. There was no reason she couldn't do it now. 

  "Why do you speak of this now?" 

  "I didn't do anything to you, Cersei." She fiddled with the Targaryen sigil she'd come to carry everywhere with her, small enough to conceal in her palm from the prying eyes of those around her. "Not even when we were children and I came to visit you and Jaime at Casterly Rock. I stood up for Tyrion when you threatened him relentlessly as a child, I taught Jaime how to read because the Maester  _asked_ me to.. I played with your brothers, I  _loved_ your brothers. Jaime was and is still convinced I could come to love you as I love your brothers.. so why are you so hateful? Why can we not be confidants?" 

She thought about Rhaegar. About how she was meant to be betrothed to him after he'd refused to marry his sister as the other Targaryens before him had. It was one of the only times in her life when she'd been so  _hopeful_ about her future, dreaming about sitting at the side of the Iron Throne, and that had died when Aerys II had refused Tywin's offer for her to be the bride of his son and heir. 

  "Jaime used to have eyes for me. He paid you no mind until  _Pycelle_ came and swept you away to his chambers to teach him how to read." She snorted indignantly. "I've always said he was the stupidest Lannister. Even after our mother separated us when she figured out what we were doing, we still found ways to keep it from our father even up until he was initiated into the Kingsguard. He was always more reluctant as the two of you got closer.  _Rhaella_ this and  _best friend_ that. I guess I was jealous, then." 

  "And now?" 

  "I know he cares for you alot more then he lets on. I will give you that." The carriage stopped in front of the steps of Baelor, and Cersei exited first before she extended her arm for Rhaella to take. ''But it is as I told you before, Rhaella. We came into the world together. I am his mirror. We  _are_ two halves of the same person, and there is no room for a third. Now come." She wiggled her fingers. "It is time for another wedding." 

_I am hers (I am his)_

_And she is mine (And he is mine)_

_From this day to the end of my days_

She'd often wondered how it would feel to stand on that step across the man who she loved. The man who'd sacrificed his honor, his reputation and his skill for a woman he'd been denied his entire life. A woman who he claimed made him a  _better_ man, a man who he could be proud of. A man  _worthy_ of a love like hers, even if he didn't believe it himself.

The dream was always void of detail. The people in attendance, the gown she wore, the Septons expression as he tied the cloth around their hands. Even though she could not see or feel them, Rhaella never doubted that the hands that held hers in the Sept of Baelor were Jaimes. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_I know this was short but i really wasn't sure what to write here, but please enjoy the next chapter which is solely from Jaime's perspective_

 


	16. Dorne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Bronn begin their journey to the Water Gardens in Dorne. Jaime does a lot of self contemplating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having a SERIOUSLY difficult time writing these S5 chapters, so I'm probably going to release several of them at once. As always, kudos are appreciate, but please leave reviews too :) I want to know what you think! I'm trying to get to 5x06, so that's why these last two chapters have been so short. The Water Gardens will be much longer.

_"Take care of Cersei for me."_

He's going to hate himself for forcing her to make a such a promise to him. It wasn't until long after Jaime and Bronn had boarded the ship that would take them to Dorne that he looked at the item Rhaella had put into his hands before leaving. Small and cold and forged with the gold from Casterly Rock, the Lannister sigil ring in his palm was the only gift he'd ever received from the eldest daughter of Aerys Targaryen. The only gift he'd ever cherish as much as his own life.

As if that mattered much anymore.

Jaime and Bronn ferried their boat into the shores of Dorne under the cover of nightfall and dragged it into the dunes, designating the cover from potential enemies as their camp for the night. With Widow's Wail at his side, Jaime nestled his hand under his head and fell into a dreamless sleep. Part of him desired to see her lurking in the corners of his dreams, but to no avail. All he saw was darkness.

And then the flash of a memory. One he'd pushed into the corner of his mind - a sacred thing - and left there to come back to when he needed it most. When he wanted to go away inside.

   _Weary and heavy laden, Jaime slowly opened his eyes as gentle hands laid his body back against the wall and began to make quick work of removing the blood from his skin. The gentle hum of a song echoed amongst the bathhouse. Haunting and familiar as if he'd heard it from birth._

_It wasn't until he forced his eyes to open that he realized Rhaella was the one tending to him._

_"Rh-Rhaella-" Her eyes snapped upward to meet his own and softened. Here she had made it seem she despised him, his actions, his very being, since Catelyn had released him into Brienne's care. She was simply along for the ride as a means of keeping her promise to Tyrion. Then she'd tended to him after Locke had taken his hand, whispered words he'd needed to hear and cradled his stump_ _reverently, like she was thankful that he'd resorted to such a sacrifice to save her and Brienne. "You're here."_

_Here. Here in Harrenhal, here in this bathhouse, with an Oathbreaker._

_"I am here, Jaime." She rose to her knees and spread her fingers over his heart. If she felt the frantic pounding beneath her fingertips the moment her hand came into contact with his skin, she made no move to show it. "I'm with you. I'm always with you."_

When he woke, Bronn was in the midst of killing a snake that was inches way from sinking its fangs into his flesh to drain the life from him. "Breakfast!" He proclaimed, turning his back to begin skinning the snake and start a fire to roast it. Midmorning came quicker then expected and it wasn't until Jaime was in the midst of covering his golden hand with the gloves he'd brought that Bronn decided it was the opportune time for conversation. "That would've been a terrible way to die." 

  "As far as I've seen, they're  _all_ terrible ways to die." He'd dreamt of them for years, but they all came back around to one. The one way he wanted to leave the world. 

  "Aye." Bronn replied. "But your lot had to give the singers a good ending." 

  "I don't care what's sung about me after I'm dead." 

His mind drifts back to when Rhaella used to sing while going about the castle doing Cersei's bidding. Jaime remembered the way he'd stop in the midst of his rounds as a Kingsguard just to hear the haunting melody of  _Jenny of Oldstones_. She'd told him once that it was the song Rhaegar used to have her perform with him in Flea Bottom before he died, and singing it was how she kept his memory alive. Then she'd stopped singing, and the memory of the King Who Never Was died along with her voice. 

Bronn scowled and handed him his portion of the snake. "No?" He asked. "Two knights off to rescue a princess. Sounds like a good song to me." 

  "It sounds like all the rest." 

Bronn eyed him through his peripheral vision as they began eating. He hadn't been Tyrion's champion and sell sword for long, and he'd scarcely seen the Mormont girl, but you would've had to be a fool to not notice the way that Jaime acted around her. He knew it. Tyrion knew it. Podrick probably knew it. It seemed the only person who wasn't acutely aware of the degree of his own feelings was the very idiot who'd coerced him into this venture to begin with. Maybe his sister too. 

  "What about you? Which way would you choose?" 

  "In my own Keep, drinking my own wine and watching my sons grovel for my fortune." 

Jaime snorted. "How disappointing." He retorted. "I thought you'd have something more exciting planned." 

  "I've had an exciting life." Bronn said. "I want my death to be boring. How do you want to go?" 

He sees them then. The two most important women in his life - his sister and his best friend - standing before him with their wide eyes and their hearts cradled in their hands. Learning to control his emotions had been something Jaime had struggled with from childhood because of the way Tywin had parented him and Tyrion and Cersei, and he'd never really quite grasped what love was. He'd always assumed that he and Cersei were in love.  _I want to be like the Targaryens of old,_  she'd said.If it once was right, it can't be wrong. That was what they told each other. Always. 

  "In the arms of the woman I love." 

Again Bronn looks at him through the corner of his eye. Jaime's eyes are soft, heartfelt, and he realizes that there is  _something_ inside of that Kingslayer that has been pushed deep down and hidden away from the rest of the world. Out comes the mockery and the silver tongue, the cocksure facade he paraded around the Capital.

There's a heart, a bleeding one, and it's waiting to be cradled in the hands of a willing woman. The only problem is Jaime doesn't seem to think he's worthy of that kind of thing. A real woman. Not one who turns him into something of their own creation as Cersei has done since childhood. 

  "Does she want the same thing?" 

He didn't answer. No surprise there. 

  "Let's go." 

And off they went. 

***

They're stopped by four Dornish warriors. Jaime immediately deflates at the sight as he and Bronn press deeper into the dunes, hoping that it'll give them some kind of cover from the enemies only mere feet in front of them. "How many do you count?" 

  "Four.'' 

  "And how many do you think you can take?" 

  "One. If he's slow." 

It takes them several minutes to make quick work of the Dornish men, but Jaime is trying  _so hard_ not to beam at his new trick that he nearly forgot to tell Bronn they needed to bury the bodies in order to prevent further complication with the Dornish. 

_ The Dornishman's Wife was as fair as the sun  _

_ And her kisses were warmer then spring  _

_ The Dornishman's blade was made of black steel  _

_ And its kiss was a terrible thing  _

Jaime shifted atop his Dornish stallion as he listened to the words of yet another song. After Bronn had buried two of the bodies, they'd stolen the clothes off of the other two as it was a suitable disguise to get into the Water Gardens. As for the song, It seemed like Bronn could not get enough of the stories that lie within the lyrics of people who had come and gone. 

_ The Dornishmans Wife would sing as she bathed _

_ in a voice that was as sweet as a peach _

 "Alright, that's enough." He can't listen to much more of it. He didn't want to because then it'd remind him of Oberyn, of how he'd found Rhaella bleeding in that cell, and how the two of them had sent Tyrion away to keep Tywin from executing him and fulfilling his sisters darkest desire of taking Tyrion out of the picture.

Bronn groaned. "But I'm coming to the best part!" 

  "We're trying to blend in." Jaime countered. "I really don't want everyone in Dorne to hear your accent." 

  "This song really is all about the ending." 

_ Isn't every song?  _  "It can wait." He urged his horse up the incline and nodded to the North, where Dorne had just come into view. It really was a marvelous sight, but it would look better from the back of the ship when he and Myrcella boarded it for home. "There. That's the Water Gardens." 

  "And once we've got the Princess?" He asked, eyes following the caravan that was traveling through the tall grasses just below them. "Then what?" 

Jaime shrugged. He really hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "I like to improvise." 

  "Well, that explains the golden hand." 

He didn't feel like explaining to Bronn  _why_ he'd lost that hand - to preserve the honor of two innocent women - and set off down the hill to follow the caravans into the city.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm releasing these chapters because they suck and I really didn't know what to write for them, but again I am so thankful for those of you who have read this story. Please review! After the Water Gardens, it'll be a little bit before I can get to the good stuff because I have school and work. Your feedback means the world!


	17. The Water Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myrcella doesn't quite understand why Jaime and Bronn have come to take her away from her betrothed. Jaime and Bronn try bargaining with the Princess and Tristain Martell, oblivious to the Sand Snakes who are conspiring with their mother to execute their revenge for Oberyn's death. 
> 
> Loras and Margaery Tyrell are thrown into jail under the orders of the High Septon. Rhaella is witness, and Cersei tells Tommen who he should trust when she's not there to be his guide. 
> 
> Meanwhile in Essos, Tyrion and Jorah talk about the Targaryen sisters.

The sun is bright, his feet ache, and Tyrion Lannister would've preferred nothing more then to be at home in Westeros with the ghost of the woman who he had once loved. He hadn't exactly  _anticipated_ being kidnapped by Jorah Mormont in Volantis, but traveling to Meereen with the former sworn sword of Daenerys Stormborn gave him an opportunity to talk about her sister who rested on the other side of the Narrow Sea. 

  "Why Daenerys?" He asked. "Why is she worth all of this? As far as I recall, the Mormonts fought against the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion." 

Jorah was silent for a moment. Tyrion was experiencing alot of that nowadays. 

  "Do you believe in anything?" 

  "I believe in lots of things-" 

  "I  _mean_ something greater than yourself." Jorah said. "The Gods, destiny. Do you believe that there's a plan for this world?" 

He knew the answer to that without so much as a moment of hesitation. "No." He murmured. Any belief of a greater  _plan_ for people like him had died when his father and sister spent his entire childhood despising his very existence, when his best friend had gone into hiding to save her own life, and his brother had turned all eyes towards his sister. Tyrion had once thought that Jaime would only ever have eyes for Cersei.  _I was wrong._

 "Neither did I. I was a cynic, just like you." Jorah replied. "Then I saw a girl step into a great fire with three stone eggs. When the fire burned out, I thought I'd find her blackened bones. Instead I saw her.  _Daenerys._ " He paused for a moment as if recalling the memory. "Alive and unhurt, holding her baby dragons. Have you ever heard dragons sing?" 

Again Tyrion replied, "No." 

  "It's hard to be a cynic after that." 

His mind took him back to his earliest memories at Casterly Rock, barely a child, when Cersei had threatened to throw him into the Lion Pits at the base of the cliffs if he so dared as  _touched_ any of her possessions. She'd had a little lion - one big enough for him to hold in his palm - with ruby red eyes and fangs that could scare off any warrior. Tyrion loved that lion. He wanted to  _be_ that lion, one his sister and his father could be proud of. 

  "When I was a child, there was a toy lion that my sister had on display in her room at Casterly Rock. It was a gift from our mother. Last thing she'd ever gotten from her." Jorah nodded to confirm he was listening as they continued their way down the cliffs. "There was a time I tried to sneak into the room to play with it while she and my brother Jaime went to Lannisport with Rhaella and her mother. It was one of the only times that she came to the Rock. She wasn't fond of it." She'd only come there to be closer to Jaime when their father took him and Cersei home. "Cersei caught me playing with her lion and dragged me down to the lion pits. Our grandfather had outlawed them being used for punishment, but my father had an affinity for them. It was  _his_ cruel punishment he used when the common people got out of hand." He'd snuck down there in the dark of night and had seen the bodies being fed to them. Bodies of people who'd stepped out of line. "I was barely five years old, screaming to the heavens for someone to save me." 

  "And?" 

Tyrion smiled. "Then there comes this girl, eight years old with wide eyes and messy silver hair, clutching a sparring sword she'd stolen from the quarters she and her mother had been staying in. Rhaella Targaryen, my Savior." Rhaella had smacked Cersei so hard with the sparring sword that his sister had fainted in the cave that lead to the pits, and the two of them had left her there until Jaime found her the next day. "She threatened to tell my father of what Cersei had done to me, and Cersei's punishment was waking up with sand  _everywhere._ It was glorious." They'd become best friends at that point, and Tyrion almost always found himself calling on his big brother and his best friend when he needed them most. "This is the similarity between the sisters. They save people who can't save themselves." 

  "It doesn't mean she'd make a good queen." 

  "I could say the same about Daenerys." Jorah pressed his lips together. "The Targaryens are famously insane. What happens if she conquers the world? If they  _both_ do? Rhaella doesn't seem the type, but if she is, then what? A thousand years of peace and prosperity?" 

  "First we have to conquer the world." He replied. 

  "We?" He threw his hands in the air. "Alright, let's assume your dreams come true. She's ecstatic that you've brought her this enemy dwarf, one who just happened to grow up alongside the older sister she's never met. She hacks off my head and restores your position. You command her armies and sail off to Westeros to defeat all your enemies and watch her climb those steps to sit on the Iron Throne. Long Live The Queen. Then what?" 

  "Then she rules." 

Tyrion found that Jorah's short and vague answers were getting increasingly annoying and proving that the older man placed quite a bit of faith in Daenerys' ability to rule a land she'd never set foot in. "So a woman who has not spent a single day of her adult life in Westeros becomes  _ruler_ of Westeros, ignoring the fact that her adult sister has spent years in hiding and has every qualification to be the ruler Westeros needs, even if she doesn't want it?" 

  "She is the rightful heir." Jorah said. "It's between her and Rhaella as to who sits on it. I will support either, no matter the cost." 

  "Why is Daenerys the rightful heir? Because her father who once burned men for amusement was the King?" 

Jorah grasped Tyrion by the arms and hauled him behind the nearest boulder. "That's a slave ship." They both peered around the corner of the rock to see the ship anchored in the bay.

  "Why are they anchored?" 

Both men froze as the ringing of swords sounded in the air, and they turned to greet a dozen men spread out evenly before them. Far too many for a fight they could win.

  "We came for water." 

_Seven hells..._

***

  " _When you come home, we'll talk about that kiss."_

If he'd been three inches closer to Bronn's horse, Jaime was sure that the sell sword would've wrenched the gold chain hidden underneath his armor off and kept the ring given to him by Rhaella for himself.  _Love sick idiot. Your head needs to be clear. Focus on your daughter. Focus on Myrcella._ He tightened his flesh hand around the reins of his horse and followed Bronn through the Water Gardens, the yellow mask pressed against his mouth to hide everything beneath his eyes. 

Wearing Dornish clothes felt wrong. Being in  _Dorne_ felt wrong. 

He just had to get Myrcella. 

Take Myrcella home to Rhaella - to  _Cersei._

 "Well, she's happy." 

Jaime rushed forward to where Myrcella laid nestled in the arms of her betrothed, Tristain Martell. "Myrcella?" The young blonde pulled away from her fiancé and turned to gaze at her uncle, confusion evident in her expression as she hiked her skirts and walked toward him. 

  "Uncle Jaime?" 

  "Come, let's speak in private." 

Tristain straightened his shoulders and moved to step in front of Myrcella. "I am Tristain Martell." He introduced, extending his hand to take Jaimes in his own. "Myrcella's intended." 

 _A fine man for a good girl._ "Excellent!" Jaime exclaimed as he clasped Tristain's in return. "It's good to meet you." 

Bronn moved his hand to his sword. "Why don't we give them some time alone, son." Dark eyes moved down to the cuffs of the armor that he and Jaime wore, narrowing as he recognized the blood that stained the yellow fabric. "Let's not do something stupid." 

Tristain was on the ground before he could pull his sword from its scabbard, Myrcella following in his stead to gently guide him back to his feet. 

  "That was something stupid." 

 _Amateur._ Jaime extended his hand and wrapped it around his daughters arm, oblivious to the Sand Snakes presence behind him as he fought with Myrcella. "Come on Myrcella," He pleaded. "We have to go  _now."_

The crack of a whip echoed in the air as Jaime and Bronn sharply spun around and engaged in a three way fight with the daughters of Oberyn Martell. Only they didn't know who they were sired by, just that they were intending to kill them both and Jaime couldn't have that with Myrcella only mere feet in front of him. His beautiful little girl, the one Cersei wouldn't dare to let him touch for fear people would know that he was her father. One of the two things in his life that reminded him goodness still existed in the world. 

_Evade. Strike. Parry. Evade. Watch for Myrcella._

 "Drop your weapons!" 

He barely had time to register what was occurring before the Dornish guard seized control of the Gardens, spread out in a circular formation around himself, Bronn and the Sand Snakes. The one nearest to him wielding the spear pressed it closer to her chest. "I am Obara Sand," She proclaimed. "Daughter of Oberyn Martell. I fight for Dorne. Who do you fight for?" 

_Watch for Myrcella._

 "I said, drop your weapons!" 

Daggers, spears and swords clattered against the ground. The largest guard saw his hesitation and lunged outward with his own spear, pressing the blade against his neck. "When you were whole," He snarled. "It would've been a good fight." 

Jaime dropped Widow's Wail and allowed himself to be taken by the Dornish guard. They missed the way he smiled - the half smile usually saved for Rhaella - as he was taken into the Palace. His daughter, however, didn't. 

_Watch for Myrcella._

Myrcella Lannister wasn't sure she'd ever seen her father happy. 

***

Cersei had invited her to the trial of Loras Tyrell in the Sept of Baelor earlier that morning when Tommen had simultaneously offered her to break fast with him and his mother. She'd accepted his offer graciously, dining on the finest fruits and pastries as she chatted with the young King of the Seven Kingdoms. Tommen knew that he'd grown up under the watchful eye of his mother and her former servant, but he'd never come to know the wisdom or knowledge she carried. Rhaella made sure not to speak of such things in front of Cersei. 

  "We're to attend the trial of Loras Tyrell this afternoon, Rhaella." Rhaella turned Alice away from the table as she tried to offer a cup of wine. "I know you don't exactly have much to attend to these days with Jaime gone, so I thought I'd extend the offer." 

  "Well I can't exactly keep you safe like I intended from here, can I?" 

From where she stood in the crowded room alongside the Kingsguard, Rhaella had not been so uncomfortable since the days that she'd found Robert Baratheon in bed with multiple women at once while Cersei was still in the Keep. It had only happened a number of times, but she'd made sure to steer clear of the Royal Chambers after that.. unfortunate incident. 

The man who claimed to have laid with Loras, a former squire named Olyvar, sat tall in a chair that the High Sparrow had placed there earlier long before his incessant questioning of the Tyrell siblings. Rhaella had decided right then that she had no respect for the older man, or the people who followed him. It made sense why her ancestor, Jaeherys Targaryen, had disbanded them centuries beforehand. 

Everything went wrong when Loras moved to attack Olyvar.

  "What are you  _doing_?" Olenna demanded. "Let us pass." 

Two of the Sparrows extended their weapons towards Margaery and her grandmother. "The Faith is satisfied that there is enough evidence to bring a formal trial." The High Sparrow said. "For Ser Loras, and Queen Margaery." 

Rhaella moved to stand behind Tommen at that point.  _Fight for her. Fight for your wife, you little fool. Do your duty._

 "What?" 

  "Bearing false witness before the Gods is as great a sin as any, My Lady." His eyes flickered over to her just then, almost as if he  _knew_ that she'd spent the last two decades lying about her true heritage. Rhaella avoided his gaze and curled her fingers around the top of Tommen's seat until her knuckles were white.  _Do your duty. Do your duty._

 "Tommen!" Tommen held his hand up as the Kingsguard moves to draw their swords. Cersei sat still, expression ever so smug, as her son reluctantly remained silent while his wife pleaded for him. "You can't do this, I am your  _Queen!_ Tommen! TOMMEN!" 

The sound of the doors closing rang in her ears as Olenna Tyrell met her eyes, " _This is all on her, and you know it."_ and a look of understanding passed between them both despite the anger flaring in the other woman. It was on her. The one thing Cersei had never quite managed to grasp from all her years sitting underneath her fathers tutelage was that she'd have to work with her enemies from time to time. She just seemed more keen on destroying their House and their future instead. 

  "Sweet boy, you must listen to me now." Cersei whispered as she grabbed her sons chin and turned him to look at her. Rhaella fought the urge to shiver when she saw that familiar venom lingering in the greens of her eyes, fingers like claws wrapped around that of her youngest child. "If the time ever comes when you seek counsel and I am to not be there, you know of who you must turn to."

That was when Cersei received her famed nickname. Only recognizable to those who spoke the Valyrian tongue, she thought it appropriate for the oldest of the Lannister twins. 

  " _Se Muna Hen Madness." (1)_

Both Tommen and Cersei turned at the whisper, brows furrowing as they didn't recognize the language. Cersei paid it no mind. She never did. 

  "When I cannot be there for you, Rhaella will be there in my place." Tommen's eyes lit up as they often had when he'd come across a cat as a young child, one of his favorite things to occupy himself in the Capital. She'd never forget the first time Joffrey had killed one of the kittens that Tommen had claimed as his own. He was good. He was so  _good_. So innocent. He just wanted to be a better king, a better man then the people who'd come before him. 

He reminded her of Jaime at that age. 

  "Yes." She bowed low to the ground and feigned a smile. "Yes, Your Grace. I will be your acting counsel when your Lady Mother is unable." Her eyes flickered over to the High Sparrow who was watching the entire conversation with piqued interest. "And I have a feeling it will happen sooner then we think." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Season 5 is exhausting. I'm sorry! 
> 
> Anyway, I fully intend for Rhaella to speak Valryian frequently when Daenerys and Co arrives in Westeros. She knows the language well. While it might not be entirely correct because of the translator I found on the Internet, the phrase marked as (1) translates to: The Mother of Madness.


	18. To Put A Lion In A Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei is imprisoned by the High Sparrow. With Tommen being out of commission, Rhaella takes it upon herself to confront him about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is relatively short compared to the others, but the next chapter will feature heavy Rhaella/Cersei and Jaime's time in Dorne. Thank you all for kudos. Much appreciated. I will try to have everything up to Mother's Mercy posted before I leave for Africa next Monday!

This will be relatively short and will lead into 5x08 and then 5x09: The Dance of Dragons. 

<><><><><><><>

"Take care of Cersei." 

Her steps halted as Rhaella continuously paused outside of the door to Tommen's chambers. Cersei had mostly refrained from asking her to do any kind of specific task since she'd come to spend most of her time with Tommen and herself, but this was the one thing she was adamant that Rhaella remain behind to do. She saw it in her gaze before she disappeared from the hall, eyes cast at her sons door before her duty pulled her into the streets of King's Landing. Tommen had voiced his concerns to Rhaella over his meal, innocent eyes wide and terrified of what was to happen to the last member of his family that remained in the city. He reminded her so much of the same little boy who'd gone around the Red Keep looking for cats to give the love and affection he was never given himself. Rhaella wondered if the High Sparrow had finally beaten Cersei at her own game. She'd spent her entire life thinking she was smarter then everyone else, that having breasts and a pretty face made her more clever. She was the Queen, and no one could frighten her. 

No one but the High Sparrow. 

Her hand slipped down to where Keeper sat against her hip, Blackfyre at its opposite side. Wandering fingers danced around the dragon hilt as she stared out the nearest window, eyes traveling the length of the city spread out before her. 

 _You're the blood of the dragon. You fear no man, no creature_.

"My Lady?" 

_You only fear the things that make you weaker._

She turned away to face Ser Boros Blount, one of the elite Kingsguard she'd befriended since Jaime had left for Dorne. He respected her enough mostly due to what Jaime had disclosed to him prior to his departure and often sought her out when the other knights felt it necessary to mock her. She didn't let their words both her. Words had not bothered Rhaella since her diagnosis of infertility. The disgraceful Targaryen, they called me. Shame. "A messenger has just been sent from the Sept. It appears that Lady Cersei has been imprisoned." 

"Is it addressed to me?" 

"No, but I imagine Lady Cersei would rather have you deal with this particular.. _ah_ , problem." He awkwardly scratched at the nape of his neck. "Yourself, of course."

Rhaella took the parchment from his hands and nodded. "Thank you, Ser. You're dismissed." He left without hesitation, each step precise and sure as he returned to his post outside of the King's chambers. She broke the seal on the scroll and pressed her lips together tightly as she began to read the hastily scrawled letter that the High Septon had wrote for Tommen. 

**_To His Grace, King Tommen Baratheon_ **

_**It is with a heavy heart that I write this notice to you mere hours after the imprisonment of your royal mother, Lady Cersei of House Lannister. It is for** **crimes of fornication, incest, and treason that** **she has found herself within the confines of a cell, and she will in due time have her own trial before the Seven Septons to judge her sins as the Gods do.** _

_**Her Walk of Atonement will happen within a sennight. I urge you or Lady Mormont to visit her beforehand. She will need you now more then she ever has.** _

_**Regards,** _

**_High Sparrow of the Faith Militant_ **

Rhaella exhaled slowly through her nose as an abundance of emotions came bubbling to the surface. Rage, guilt, and shame overwhelmed her like a tidal wave crashing against the shore, threatening to pull her out to sea where she was helpless to fight against its current. Dragons did not fare well in water. They flew better and freer then any other creature of this world. Maybe this was it. This was how she became free. 

"Take care of Cersei." Stupid Jaime and the promises she had to keep. Damn him. Damn him. 

"Lady Rhaella?" Her hand hovered above Tommen's chamber door, fingers tightly curled against one another as she was mentally preparing herself for the questions he no doubt would be asking concerning his mother. "You look as if you've seen a ghost." 

_Go on then. Do your duty._

"Your Grace-" 

Tommen held his hand up and ushered her inside. "There's no need for formalities. You have been around for most of my childhood, after all. I've come to know you quite well." He smiled softly and took his seat at the table. "Like a guardian, of sorts. That's what I think of when I see you with him, and how you act around me."

She removed the belt that held her weapons and laid it across the nearest chair. "Pardon?" Rhaella asked. "Who are you talking about?" 

"You think I haven't seen the way you look at my uncle Jaime?" She froze in place. Of course the Lannister children would perceive her relationship with Jaime and the nature of her feelings over the course of their lives lived within the halls of the castle. She had spent most of her adult years catering to their mother. "You care for him, that much is obvious. You're devoted and loyal to the Crown. Probably the most loyal knight I've ever met-" 

"Tommen," She chided. Rhaella moved to sit across from him and denied the glass of wine that his servant offered to pour for her. She'd have to check in on her own servants after talking with him about his mother. "I'm not a knight. You know that." 

"But you're not a Lady?" 

She'd never really been much of a lady even in her years when her father had made her attend court with her brother. Granted, she had the beauty and the elegance to perform the act of being a lady, but no one in the Seven Kingdoms would marry a highborn woman who couldn't bear them heirs. She'd come to terms with that. 

"I am what I am." She replied. "And what I am.. sweet King, is your Guardian." His eyes lit up with an unexplained wonder and awe as he drank the wine he'd been given, quietly munching on the cheese and meats that were spread out before him. Rhaella turned her attention to the window as a comfortable silence settled between the two of them. Dusk was beginning to fall, casting shades of pink and orange across the clear skies that spread out over King's Landing. "We need to speak of something. It's of urgent importance, Tommen." 

"Does it concern my mother?" 

"The High Sparrow has thrown your mother into prison." And almost in an instant, the light mood fell flat and was replaced with a palpable anger that radiated from the young king. "I'm not entirely sure what the charges are as of right now, but I can find out if you give me your blessing to return to the Sept of Baelor in the morning. Her trial is meant to happen within a sennight." 

There was five minutes of silence so absolute you could hear a pin drop. Rhaella kept her breathing labored for fear of Tommen's reaction, eyes focused on the boy who sat across from her at the table. His wine glass remained newly filled with a considerable amount of cheese and meat still left untouched before him. 

"That will be all, Lady Rhaella." 

Her brow furrowed. "Your Grace-" 

"I said that will be  _all."_  

Promise to Cersei abandoned, Rhaella slept fitfully that night. If Tommen would not meet the High Sparrow head on, she would have to do it herself. No matter the cost. 

***

Qyburn was the first to meet her two days later when she'd gathered the strength and courage to leave for the Sept.

"Forgive me, My Lady." He stepped into her path and managed a meek smile. "You don't look well. May I ask where you're going at such a hour?"

Rhaella paused to consider her response. She'd only known the former Maester since Roose Bolton had them depart from Harrenhal when Jaime had been gravely ill. He'd tended to The Kingslayer without so much as a complaint and had been at Cersei's side, providing whatever aid he could muster, since he'd come to the city. He was trustworthy enough to disclose where she was going. 

"His Grace received a letter from the High Sparrow a few days ago. Ser Boros gave it to me. It was from the High Sparrow as a way of informing King Tommen about the imprisonment of his mother, and seeing how he will no longer open his chamber doors to speak to me or anyone else, I thought it best to approach the High Sparrow myself to talk about Lady Cersei." 

Much to her surprise, Qyburn nodded. "I have just returned from there myself. I think she'll be most pleased to see you." 

The minutes it took her to arrive at the Sept of Baelor felt like hours. When she finally arrived inside where most of the weddings in the city had taken place, the High Septon was waiting for her. "My Lady, what a pleasure it is to see you again." He greeted. "Though I do wish it was under different circumstances. Is.. ah, His Grace not accompanying you this morning?" 

"King Tommen is not fairing well with the news of his mother and his wife being thrown into cells." She replied cooly. "I thought it best to come speak to you myself." The last time the High Septon had seen her, Rhaella had been dressed in her armor. It wasn't the same Targaryen armor she'd worn prior to returning to King's Landing, but borrowed armor that Jaime had taken from the Armory and given to her to wear. It was meant to be an asset to assist in fulfilling her part as part of Tommen's Kingsguard. Now she wore a simple yet elegant blue gown, loose at the waist and arms but just tight enough in the bodice to accent her figure. Keeper remained hidden beneath her gown, tucked away in its scabbard for a worst case scenario. The dagger hardly left her side anymore. 

"Do you believe yourself free of sin, My Lady?" 

"We as human beings are born into the world of sin. No one is sinless, and no one can ever hope to be sinless. Sin is in our nature, written into the very fabric of our existence. It's inevitable. That doesn't excuse me either." 

"What is your sin, Lady Rhaella?" 

She hadn't slept with anyone, so fornication was out. There was no brother to commit incestual affairs with, so that was out too. Alcohol had never suited her. The only thing she'd done was lie about -  _oh._

"Why do you concern yourself with the sins of the others around you?" She asked. "I have no duty to confess anything to you, High Sparrow. You cannot force someone to speak the words that which they do not feel the need to speak." 

"It is my duty as a servant of the Gods to bring those who'd do wrong to justice." He replied. "Lady Cersei is an example of this. One of our own Sparrows came to me just weeks ago with a very heavy soul that was in need to be.. how should I put this." He paused for a moment. "A soul that had to be stripped away in order to be cleansed, and now he is lighter then he has ever been. He confessed the sins of Cersei Lannister of which he knew about, and for that she now sits in a cell. Tell me.." He took a step closer to her, hands clasped behind his back. "Do you really wish to free her?" 

"No." It was almost an instantaneous answer, and Rhaella regretted it as soon as she said it. "But I am a woman of my word, and I gave my word to Ser Jaime Lannister before he departed the city on a mission of utmost importance. I'm asking you for ten minutes. That's all I need." 

Rhaella half expected him to keep goading her for personal information she wasn't keen to disclose, but he simply nodded and motioned to the doorway at the opposite end of the room. "And I will grant that wish." 

He personally escorted her down to the cells and released the bolt from Cersei's door, quietly motioning to the Septa who stood just inside with a now empty bucket of what she assumed was water. "We will give Lady Rhaella ten minutes alone with Lady Cersei." He murmured to the Septa. "Come. Much to do." 

She stepped inside and was immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of..  _something_. It was dank and cold, water dripping from the ceiling and barely enough light for her to see what laid within. Her eyes traced the length of the cell until they fell upon a figure huddled in the corner of the room, shoulders trembling and arms braced over her head. 

"Cersei." 

Cersei Lannister lifted her head, looked at Rhaella Targaryen with awe, and whispered, " _You came."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!


	19. Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei and Rhaella talk about her Walk of Atonement, but a lot more is to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me FOREVER because I could not figure out if I wanted to "let the dragon out'' and i PROMISE it will happen, but apparently it's not happening yet. All of S5 will be released before I leave for Africa on Sunday. Enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Also, if Cersei seems OOC here, it's because I have a rather difficult time writing for her. We all know her character revolves around her love for her kids, and their loss made her crueler (my own personal opinion) because she had nothing else to lose. This will probably be the only time we see any vulnerability on her part.

It's poetry. Justice for Ned Stark, justice for her sins. Seeing Cersei sitting inside that cell as penance for the things she'd done to her, to  _everyone_ , is poetic justice. So why doesn't it  _feel_ like that? Why does it hurt her to see Jaime's sister at what is probably the lowest point in her life? 

_They always did say you were the soft-hearted of the Targaryens. Your heart is what made you weak, what made you the disgrace of your House. You're meant to hate the Lannisters. They took everything from you._

Her mind flickered back to Jaime. The promise she'd made to him. There had probably been a number of people who'd made promises to the younger twin and had not been able to follow through with. Promises of truth, promises of love never felt, promises upon promises that had been broken and broken and broken again. 

_But you can't. You can't hate them because your heart belongs to one of them._

Her father would smile - that same contemptuous smile Cersei often wore -  at the sight of Tywin Lannisters daughter on her knees. Maybe it's time she did the same. 

" _You came_." Cersei breathed as she stood to her feet, bracing her hand against the wall to steady herself. Rhaella felt her heart sink at the hope in her expression. "Can you-Can you tell me how Tommen is? I believed you'd been tending to him because you gave me your word, but Qyburn said he won't open the door for anyone." When she didn't answer, Cersei crossed the gap between them and gripped her shoulders tightly enough to jar her from her trance. " _Rhaella_ , answer me!" 

"This is poetry." It came on a whisper barely audible for her to hear, but Cersei heard it. The older Lannister twin recoiled and took to her corner as Rhaella crossed her arms over her chest. "I used to wonder when the time would come for you to get what you deserved, and here we are. It's  _beautiful_. The very reason why Ned Stark was executed in front of the entire city is the same reason you sit in this cell." 

"Joffrey killed Ned Stark. That wasn't my doing." Cersei had tried to coax him out of it, as had Varys, but her first born had been far too arrogant to hear anything of the sort. "We tried to guide him in the other direction to have Stark take the Black-"

"That's not the point. You condemned Ned Stark for realizing your children were born of incest and were sired by Jaime. He was right, just like the Sparrow is right, and here you sit." She laughed quietly beneath her breath. "On your knees, in a cell with no one to save you." You. You will save me, as you saved my brothers. _You s_ _aved Jaime from the Starks and saved Tyrion from having to learn to live in a world without his two best friends. "_ How does it feel to be beaten at your own game, hm? Tell me. I imagine you've never been lower." 

The last time Cersei had felt like this was when Tyrion had been born. Joanna Lannister had been her only connection to the world. The one woman who cared for her and her brother more then herself, her husband, her own life. Cersei remembered the songs that Joanna had sung to her and Jaime and had sung them to her own children when they were at her breast. She clung to the memory of her mothers smile and her laughter when she watched her children jump off the cliffs of Casterly Rock and into the sea. 

A mother who was taken from her too soon. A mother she'd never gotten to know because  _Tyrion_ had taken her from the world when he'd come into it. 

"I used to think you were nothing like your House. Too soft, too weak. Now look at you." Green eyes flickered up and down her form as she sank to her knees in the corner. "Cruelty is unbecoming of you, Rhaella. You won't leave me in here to rot like your father would, like your Dragon Queen would." 

Rhaella stored the mention of Daenerys in the corner of her mind to ask Cersei about later. It seemed her younger sister was gaining quite a reputation. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I see the way you look at my brother. You're a woman of your word, even when you don't want to be. You're loyal and devoted to those who would oppose you. You didn't want the Iron Throne even when you had the best claim to it. You don't want to be like the other Targaryens. You want to be  _better_." Rhaella pressed her lips together as she stepped away from the door and into the light that filtered through the bars at the top of the cell. "Your compassion overrules your cruelty. That's why you won't let me suffer here. You can't. Your honor compels you to keep your word, and you made a promise to Jaime. Love made you weak. A soft-hearted Targaryen who can’t kill someone, or even bear heirs properly. I imagine you were a disgrace.”   
  


Cersei was not even remotely prepared when Rhaella lunged across the cell and slammed her into the opposite wall, stars dancing in her vision as Rhaella pinned her hands behind her back and pressed their bodies together to keep Cersei from moving. Her free hand came upward with a dagger in her grasps, made from Valyrian steel with a dragon head pommel on the hilt.

  “I was a disgrace to highborns from Dorne to Casterly Rock. But you know what made up for it? When I saved your baby brother from your own hand when you tried to throw him into the lion pits at Casterly Rock because you caught him with that lion your mother had made for you. My honor saved your brother when he laid dying in my arms in the woods after one of Roose Bolton’s men took his hand away from him.” She pressed the tip of her blade beneath Cersei’s chin. “My ‘’soft heart’’ is the only reason why your son hasn’t killed himself. It’s why Jaime is retrieving your daughter from the Dornish right now. I’d rather be compassionate then cruel, and based off of the look in your eyes right now, my compassion is going to overrule my cruelty and let you live.” 

  “Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t kill me.” Cersei's eyes flashed in the shadows as Rhaella moved away and slid Keeper back into its scabbard. “And I don’t care what you think of me. A lion doesn’t concern herself with the opinions of the sheep.” 

  “The **sheep** is a dragon. Targaryens don’t answer to the likes of Gods or Men.” She snapped in response. “And lions don’t fare well when they’re caged. We’ll see how it suits you when you perform your Walk of Atonement. My regards. I imagine the commoners will be cruel.” 

Her hand was wrapped around the door when Cersei spoke up again, much softer and more desperate then she'd sounded during their entire conversation. 

" _Please,_ Rhaella." She pleaded. "I've never begged for anything in my life." Rhaella allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she slowly inhaled and exhaled, curling and uncurling her fingers as Cersei hesitantly laid her hand on her shoulder. "I will cease the torment, the torture. I'll acknowledge that my brother might feel something for you, and you for him, and I'll stop as long as you can promise me you'll keep Tommen safe. I can't do it while I'm in here." 

_There's no love like the love of a mother for her children._

"I just want my family to be safe." 

She couldn't bring herself to turn around and face her. After years of condemnation, of vile hatred and torment at her own hand, Rhaella was hearing Cersei's apology for everything that had happened over the last two decades and sounded  _genuine_ about it. She knew no one else in the city would keep Tommen safe the way she would.

"I'll speak to the High Sparrow again." Cersei felt her breath catch in her throat as Rhaella lifted her hand and rested it on top of her own. "Just to see if the alternative can be a trial instead of public humiliation. No one deserves that. Not even you." She swore she heard her sharply inhale as Cersei's hand trembled beneath her own. "I'll keep an ear out for news of Jaime, and I'll keep trying to get through to Tommen." Rhaella slowly turned around and took her other hand to clasp them in her own, ignoring the tears freely streaking through the dirt that stained Cersei's cheeks. "Keep your head held high, Cersei." 

She can't say anything else. She didn't want to.

Cersei did. 

" _Thank you."_

***

Her steps were heavier leaving the Sept then they were entering it. Dusk had fallen in King's Landing, and darkness had fallen within her. A darkness that came from a loss of hope. 

" _High Sparrow, with all due respect, you don't know the things that Cersei is capable of. You don't know the anger that woman holds. The very core of her is built from decades of hatred and grief and regret. That alone, if acted upon, could level this city and destroy the half a million people who live here."_

The High Septon was not having any type of negotiation when it came to Cersei's Walk of Atonement. He fully believed that she deserved it, and that taking the Walk would pay for her sins. She  _needed_ the public humiliation. She  _deserved_ it. 

_"Lady Cersei will face the Gods as we all do, in the end."_

No matter what she said, nothing was saving her from the Walk of Shame. Rhaella would just have to pick up the pieces in the absence of her brother.

Qyburn found her praying in front of Tommen's door after another restless night of sleep. She'd dreamt of fire, of cold blue eyes that mirrored her own, and the Mother of Madness. 

"What are you doing, My Lady?" He asked. The former Maester smiled warmly as he extended a steaming cup of tea just made in the kitchens to her. 

"Praying. Not something I do as much of anymore, but for what's coming.." She paused and took a sip of tea. "We'll need it." 

"What were you praying for?"

Rhaella didn't miss the way he shivered when they locked eyes. She must've looked like quite a sight then; A woman who barely stood at five-foot-nine inches with unkempt silver hair, fierce blue eyes and dressed in Kingsguard armor that she had not earned the privilege to wear. A sword at her hip, a dagger on the other, and a fierce loyalty that could cover Westeros from Castle Black to Dorne. 

_You gave your word. Keep it._

"For the Gods to have mercy on Cersei's soul. I believe none of it will be left once she emerges from her Walk of Atonement." Qyburn remained silent as she sat her teacup down on the ledge and nodded to Alice and Ada as they sat down Tommen's breakfast in front of his door for her to take to him. "I fear for whoever dares to cross her path afterwards." 

_Hell hath no fury like a homicidal queen._


	20. Dance of Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime deals with the Dornish, and Daenerys rides Drogon for the first time. This summary sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to give you guys Mother's Mercy! Let me know what you think of this chapter!

They had him change into a Dornish tunic the color of mustard, and Jaime grimaced at the sight as the larger guard who had apprehended him earlier that day lead him into the common room where he was to be meeting with Prince Doran Martell. 

Myrcella and Tristain were nestled together on the couch opposite of Ellaria, who was fixed on him with such a venomous glare that if looks could kill, Jaime would've been dead several times over. He was suddenly glad in that moment that looks couldn't kill, and he would be out of Dorne sooner than later. He hoped it was sooner. 

"Prince Doran." 

"Forgive me, we started without you." Doran spoke as his servant filled both his and Ellaria's wine glasses before scurrying out of the room. 

Jaime nodded to Myrcella. "Princess Myrcella." He was finding himself baffled again and again that Myrcella was so  _different_ from Cersei. How they had managed to create someone so good, so pure... was beyond him. "What a lovely dress." 

Myrcella cocked an eyebrow. "You don't like it?" She asked. 

"You must be cold."  _Such a weak comeback. You know better. She knows you better than that._

"Not at all. The Dornish climate agrees with me." Jaime nodded to Tristain as he took a seat on the end of the couch that Ellaria occupied, opting to remain as far from her as he possibly could. Given the look she'd held since he entered the room, he wagered she believed he had something to do with the brutal death of Oberyn Martell. "Prince Tristain. How's your jaw?"

"A flea bite." 

"Pardon," Ellaria interjected. "But I have to ask, what are you doing in Dorne?" 

"Looking after the safety of my niece, the Princess Myrcella." 

"And rather then send a raven or speak to me directly, you decided to enter my country in secret and abduct our guest by force."

"We received a threatening message." Both his and Doran's eyes flickered over to Ellaria. Jaime had a feeling that her good brother remained oblivious to her obvious harmful attentions against Myrcella, despite the fact that she'd had nothing to do with Oberyn's death. "The princess's necklace in the jaws of a viper." 

Her eyes widened. "That necklace went missing from my room!" She exclaimed. 

A thick tension settled in the room as the servant who had disappeared earlier reappeared with a meal that had been made for Jaime. He set it down before him and scurried back down the hall. "Excellent," He said flatly. "A last meal before the beheading?" 

"We're not going to behead you." Doran replied. "Many in Dorne want war. I've seen war. I've seen the bodies piled up on the battlefield. I've seen the orphans starving in the cities. I don't want to lead my people into that hell." 

As it often did when his attention wasn't caught, Jaime found himself in a daze as he casually ate the food that had been placed before him. He thought of Rhaella who was undoubtedly keeping a watchful eye over Tommen in the Red Keep. A breathless smile when she made his son laugh, or the twinkle in her eye when she told him stories of Kings who'd come and gone. He thought of Cersei who was probably wreaking havoc everywhere she went and Rhaella desperately trying to be damage control. 

Jaime didn't realize Myrcella was watching him. Jaime didn't also realize that his fingers were wound around the chain he'd clasped to his neck before arriving in Dorne, the same chain that carried the Lannister ring she'd given him before departing King's Landing. 

 Before he could realize what was going on, they were all suddenly drinking in Tommens honor, and Ellaria was purposefully spilling her wine on the floor. 

Jaime could see the gears turning in Doran's head as he spoke, "So King Tommen insists that his sister return to the Capital, yes?" 

He locked eyes with Myrcella. "I'm afraid he does." Jaime replied. 

''I cannot disobey my King's command." Ellaria's head snapped back. "She will return with you to King's Landing. My son Tristain will accompany you both. If the alliance between Dorne and the Iron Throne is to continue, their engagement must stand." 

He shrugged absently. That was an easy enough demand to cope with. "I accept." 

"One more thing." Jaime caught Myrcella's smile out of the corner of his eye. That was something he'd want to remember - the curve of his daughter's smile - for the rest of his life. "My brother was named to the Small Council before his death. Your father understood the importance of keeping Dorne in the fold. With Oberyn gone, Tristain will take his place on the Small Council." 

"You have my word." 

" _The word of a Kingslayer."_

He tried not to sigh at the use of the moniker. It had been Rhaella who had coined that term when he'd driven his sword into Aerys Targaryen's back and sat on the Iron Throne while his King bled to death before him. The word that had become his very being - the essence of himself - and had ultimately made Jaime come to the realization that he was the least honorable man in Westeros. 

He'd tried to make up for his wrongdoings with Brienne. Gifting her Oathkeeper, sending her out into Westeros with Podrick Payne in search of Sansa Stark. He'd made an oath to Catelyn, regardless of their feud before and after the Red Wedding, and Jaime intended to keep it because Sansa had remained innocent throughout the entire ordeal. She didn't need to be corrupted any further. 

Rhaella and Brienne had been his second chance at being a better man. He'd armed them, armored them, and left them behind to do greater things then he could ever accomplish. Brienne would see Sansa safely home to Winterfell and Rhaella would keep Tommen and Cersei safe. They'd given their word. He only hoped they could keep it. 

After bargaining for Bronns release, Jaime was shown to the nearest room where he could write the letter he'd been meaning to send back to King's Landing for the last day or so. 

**_Lady Rhaella,_ **

"You write like a seven year old." Jaime stopped in the midst of scrawling a nearly illegible letter to regard Ellaria Sand as she entered the room. He barely caught the ghost of a smile on her lips at his handwriting. 

"Your Maester kindly agreed to copy it over for me." He replied. 

"He didn't try to make you pay?'' Jaime shook his head as he wrote  ** _Regards, Jaime Lannister_** across the bottom of the parchment. "Maybe he's changed." Ellaria walked towards the window to gaze out into the gardens while Jaime read and reread his own words in his mind, hoping it was enough for them to be satisfied on his whereabouts and intentions to return home. "The Queen will be happy you are bringing her daughter home." 

"She will." He said. 

"You love her very much, don't you?" Jaime didn't realize who Ellaria was alluding to. He often didn't until the leas convenient moment. 

"Of course. She's my niece." 

"I wasn't talking about her." 

He slowly lifted his eyes to stare at the foreign beauty. Ellaria Sand was beautiful in the way that the vipers native to Dorne were; Beautiful and deadly and willing to do whatever it took for the safety of her city, her people, her family. "What, you think I disapprove?" She asked. "I disapprove because other people disapprove of that sort of thing where you are from?"  _The Targaryens married their siblings. If it doesn't feel wrong, it must not be wrong. If it doesn't feel wrong, it must not be wrong._ "They disapprove of Oberyn and I where you're from. Here.. no one blinked an eye." 

Jaime thought of the night he'd found Rhaella in her cell only hours after Oberyn's death. No one had told her of the fallen Red Viper, and it seemed she somehow knew of his end at Gregor Clegane's hand. He thought about the way the blood ran down her knuckles and the weariness that lingered in her eyes, just out of reach, when blue caught the torchlight in the halls outside her cell. 

She was barely his age and looked so much older then her years. 

"A hundred years ago, no one would've blinked an eye at you if you'd been named Targaryen." Ellaria wrung her hands and pressed her lips together. "Oberyn told me about her, the girl with the dragon dagger. He told me how beautiful she'd been when they'd been betrothed years ago, before I ever came along. She was beautiful in ways that made men ache to be with her. Her beauty was shown through her actions, her eyes, her words. She wasn't the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms. Men loved her because of who she  _was._ A gentle hearted, kind spirited woman who just wanted to help the people." She smiled softly. Jaime surmised that Oberyn had done his part in keeping the fact that Rhaella was alive a secret as he and his family had done for the last two decades. "It's always changing. Who we're supposed to love and who we're not. The only thing that stays the same is that we want who we want."

"I know your daughter had nothing to do with the terrible thing that happened to the man I love, perhaps even you are innocent of that." 

Unsure of how to respond, Jaime remained silent until Ellaria took her leave from the room, and he was again alone. 

***

Daenerys Targaryen had been through enough in the last several years to know that danger lurked around every corner, you could not trust anyone but those closest to you, and that obtaining the Iron Throne would be one of the most difficult feats she'd ever do. After banishing Jorah from Meereen, she'd thought the Old Bear would never return to her. 

And then he did, in the fighting pits, where Dany thought he would die in front of her eyes and she'd be helpless to do anything about it. He'd also brought along the youngest Lannister who claimed to be the best friend of her older sister, and her best potential candidate for Hand of the Queen. 

" _And why are you worth meeting? Why should I spend my time listening to you?"_

_Tyrion smiled. "Because I'm the only person in this room who can tell you about the sister you've never met." Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of Rhaella, who she had yet to tell anyone other then Jorah about. "Once a princess, and now one of the sharpest warriors I've ever met who also happens to be one of my dearest friends."_

_"You know Rhaella Targaryen?"_

_"Do I **know**_ _Rhaella Targaryen," He repeated. "There's no one else in my life who I've known better."_

Tyrion had spent the next week telling her every story about her older sister that Jorah and Barristan had been unable to provide themselves. The stories of saving him from his sister's vengeful hand as children and the way she'd protected him from his father. How she'd left the city to rescue his brother, how she'd endured the reign of Robert Baratheon and kept herself hidden from the man who would have slaughtered the future of House Targaryen, and how she'd gone from the disgraced Princess of Westeros to the sharpest warrior and most compassionate woman he'd ever met. 

She envied him.

Now surrounded by the remaining Sons of the Harpy who hadn't been purged from the city by the Unsullied, Daenerys extended her hand to Missandei and closed her eyes to prevent having to witness the death of her closest companions who stood on all sides of her. 

When faced with certain death, Daenerys thought of her children, her sister, the Throne she'd never come to sit upon.

_Rhaella, forgive me-_

And then a screech unlike anything she'd ever heard pierced the air, and a winged shadow took flight around the fighting pits. No one understood the awe that flooded her in that moment. There he was - _Drogon -_ the living memory of her deceased Khal, coming to his mothers aid in her most dire time of need. 

She had to fly. 

" _Drogon!"_

Jorah and Missandei watched as she wrenched the spears from between the scales of her dragon, not even so much as wincing when he fiercely roared right in front of her as if she was a threat. Not a moment later did he recognize his mother and bent his head for her to begin climbing up his body, settling herself at the base of her neck to grip the spines that protruded from him. 

" _Fly."_

Tyrion watched in amazement as  _The Mother of Dragons_ took off through the fighting pits on the back of her eldest child and disappeared behind the clouds. None of them on the ground had any idea where Drogon would take his mother. 

Once out of danger, Daenerys smiled so widely that her cheeks began to hurt. She'd never had the opportunity to feel  _free_ , not in the memories she held of her time in the Free Cities or the earliest days of knowing her brother. She'd never felt like a child, had never been a child, but sitting on this dragon at the top of the world.. This was freedom. She wondered if this was how Rhaenys and Visenya had felt when they'd conquered Westeros with Aegon. 

If she glanced hard enough at her side, she could see her -  _hear_ her - Rhaella Targaryen on the back of her promise dragon, Rhaegal. Dany could see her sister and hear her laughter above the roar of wind and flap of dragon wings. 

That's when she was happiest. 

 


	21. Mother's Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei undergoes her Walk of Shame. Jaime returns from Dorne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned from Africa. Wow. What an experience.   
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I can't believe I forgot to post it here!

_"I wish you all the happiness in the world."_

Jaime pondered Ellaria Sands final words to his daughter as he followed Myrcella and Tristain aboard their ship bound for King's Landing. It had been hours since that feeling of dread had settled heavily in his stomach, but he was more focused on the bright, happy young girl who followed him below decks to talk about what would happen upon their arrival home. 

He watched her intently as she spun the Lannister sigil necklace between her fingers and clasped it around her neck. "Try not to lose it this time." He chided. Gods only knew what would happen if she  _did_ lose the necklace again. 

"I'll never take it off again." Myrcella replied. "Provided you tell me what that necklace is you have hidden under your jerkin." 

He winced as if he'd been touched by fire. _Of course she saw the ring, you fool. You've barely been able to keep your hands off of it. "_ Story for another time." He said. "I know you don't want to leave Dorne, but I'm glad you're coming home. Your mother is desperate to see you." 

 _Never love anyone but your children._ He'd heard Cersei say it a thousand times since Joffrey had come wailing into the world, body shielded by his mothers arms because Cersei was petrified that the people who joined her in the birthing bed would realize that Jaime was the father. He'd thought about it, about Myrcella and Tommen, and how  _desperate_ he was to be able to be the father they'd never had. He would be better then Robert ever was. He had to be. 

"I'm glad Tristain is coming with us too. He seems like a niece boy. You are very lucky. Arranged marriages are rarely so.. so well arranged." 

"Do you think mother will like him?" 

 _No._ "If she sees you're happy," He countered. "I'm sure she will." 

Leave it to him to discredit Myrcella's intelligence. "You really believe that?" She said, quiet laughter bubbling past her lips. 

"Have you ever known your mother to like anyone aside from her children?" 

"Well, she likes you." His breath caught in his chest as she continued. "And Lady Ella, she might act like she despises her, but I know better. I remember the times she used to spend with the boys and I when we were little. She always looked sad. I didn't know why, but when mother came back into the room and began playing with us again, she looked like she'd lost something she'd never had." Myrcella cocked her head as Jaime gripped the chain beneath his jerkin. "I imagine she did." 

''I'm not so sure about either of those." He said softly. Jaime knew that Myrcella deserved to know the nature of her uncle and mothers relationship, that Robert Baratheon not only had never been a father to her but was not biologically her father. She could be stoned, she could be killed for even knowing the truth, but he'd rather her know then continue to live a lie for the rest of her life. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you. Something I should've told you long ago. So.." He paused, considering his next words. "Now that you've seen more of the world, you've learned how complicated things can be. How people can be. The Lannisters and the Martells have hated each other for years, but you've fallen in love with Tristain? It wasn't an accident, really, what were the chances? You happen to fall in love with a man you're assigned to marry? My point is.. we don't choose who we love."  _Will Jaime Lannister marry for duty, or will he marry for love?_ "It just.. It's beyond our control." He stumbled over his words, clenching and unclenching his hand as he struggled for a fix on which to calm his nerves. "I sound like an idiot." 

"No. No you don't." 

"What I'm  _trying_ to say, what I'm trying and failing to say-" 

She knew. Of course she did. "I know what you're trying to say," Myrcella replied. 

"I'm afraid you don't." 

"No, I  _do._ " His chest constricted painfully as she reached out and held his hand with a gentleness that mirrored Rhaella. "I know, about you and mother." His eyes widened in alarm and he just wanted to step back, to hide in the shadows of the ship and never ever let her know the darkness that often followed the Lannisters around much like a plague that could not be cured. He wanted to go, to go away inside - "I think a part of me always knew. And I’m glad that you’re my father.”   
  
His heart swells with an unexplainable pride as his little girl, the pride and joy of the Lannister family, threw her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest. It’s probably the safest she’d ever felt in her entire life. The one time he was able to be a proper father to Myrcella was the same time she’d felt the safest. 

And then she pulled away to glance up at him, and her nose began to bleed. 

“Myrcella?” 

Her breathing quickened beneath his palm. Blood stained the porcelain skin of her cheeks, green eyes widening as it became more and more difficult to breathe. _Save me Daddy. Save me._

_“Myrcella!”_

_*****_

[warning: allusions to groping, near sexual assault] 

Rhaella didn’t know what had possessed her to go all the way to the sept to partake in Cersei’s Walk of Shame. Maybe it was her loyalty to Jaime. Maybe she wanted to see her suffer for all the things she’d put her through since Aerys had been slain at the Iron Throne. 

She decided on the former. 

There were hundreds if not thousands of commoners gathered on the streets that lead back to the Red Keep. She knew they hated her, hated the Lannister name. 

 “We have a sinner, Lady Cersei Lannister, who has confessed to her crimes of fornication and treason.” The voice of the High Sparrow caught her attention as she stood veiled by the crowd of commoners. “She has confessed her sins and is prepared to make her walk of atonement as repentance.” 

Several of the people in front of her parted, and Rhaella gasped at the sight of Cersei. Her hair had been shaved to just above her ears, scarlet staining gold. She had been washed from head to sole, and her physical exposure was sure to torment her for years.

_I’m sorry, Cersei._

The bell rang, and Cersei started walking. 

Rhaella slipped in and out of the crowd as the Septa called “Shame.” Her heart crawled into her throat when the commoners began throwing things and shouting euphemismsather. Were these really the same people she and Rhaegar had sang to, the same common people she’d fought so hard for? 

 “Targaryen.” 

She was barely prepared for the man who gripped her arm and threw her into the alley. He was largely sized for a man, with a grizzly beard and beady eyes, and clothes that barely clung to his form. He was clearly starving and looking for someone in reach to take his frustration out on. 

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

  “I was alive when Aerys was King. Sure.. he wasn’t a good king, but all the common people on the Street of Steel and the slums of Flea Bottom knew his beautiful son and daughter. The beautiful Rhaegar, slain on the banks of the Trident, and the beautiful Rhaella, her life stolen by the Kingslayer.” He cocked his head. “You seem to resemble a Targaryen.”

  “And if I did?” 

Her heart stopped when he slammed her hard against the wall and pinned her hands behind her.  _This can’t be happening_. If he were smaller in stature she would have easily been able to apprehend him, but with his entire body pressed against hers in a way that painful, her options were limited. 

  “I’d have to take you right here against this wall.” 

  “I don’t think you’d enjoy that.” She replied coyly. “They day a man should never shack up with a Targ, for we have too much bloodshed between our legs.” 

He licked his lips hungrily. “I’d like to taste what’s between your legs.” 

Everything slowed down at once. One hand held hers together while the other dragged down her body, vulnerable without armor, setting every nerve on fire. Rhaella writhed beneath his touch, waiting for the prime opportunity to strike outward and apprehend him. 

She imagined it was Jaime. It made it more bearable. 

  “You’re beautiful.” He breathed. “So firm beneath my hands-“ 

It was so _hard_ to not be afraid. She'd spent so much of her life confined to the Red Keep, ignorant of what was on the streets below, the conditions of its people and the lives they lived. Rhaegar had painted them in this  _beautiful_ light, and here she was. Bathed in darkness. 

Ignoring the frantic pounding of her heart, Rhaella smiled coyly. “You wanna feel what else is firm?” Grabbing his hand, she lead it to her waist and used her free hand to reach beneath her dress. “Do you wanna see me? All of me?” 

 The man practically moaned and released his grip. “Gods yes.” 

His eyes followed the curve of her legs as she raised her dress upward to where her small clothes began, and then wrapped her fingers around Keepers hilt to plunge it into his stomach. 

_How many people have you killed?_

_Half a dozen._   
_More._

The man fell to his knees with the dagger hilt deep in his abdomen. Rhaella stood over him and tried to keep the tremor in her hands steady as the roar of the crowd continued outside. It wouldn’t be much longer before she’d lose Cersei’s path. “I will not shed tears for you.” She pressed the pad of her boot against his chest and kicked him onto his back. 

She could hear the way his lungs filled with blood.  “I will not shed tears for a man like you.” 

Blood spilled onto the ground when she removed Keeper from his abdomen and wiped it on his tunic. Taking one last glance at him, Rhaella slipped the dagger back into its scabbard and continued down the path at a run until she caught up with Cersei. 

 _Cersei_!

Blood and dung and everything in between clung to her skin as Cersei continued walking. She tried her best to ignore the screaming and the exposure of herself. In order to distract herself from what was occurring, she thought of her mother and Casterly Rock. She thought of Jaime. It was the only way it made anything bearable. 

 _Cersei_!

Her eyes scanned the crowds on either side of her. She was near the Red Keep now. Who would’ve come for her?

 _Cersei_!

Rhaella Targaryen threw herself in front of the gates of the Red Keep, head stained with blood and eyes frantic as she beckoned her forward with open arms. 

She was real. She was real and injured and here, wanting to save her. 

 “For once, put aside your hatred, your anger, and let someone else save you!” Tears openly falling down herface, Cersei stumbled past the guards on the bridge and fell right into Rhaella Targaryens open arms. 

****

“My Lady?” 

Having to deal with her own repercussions for the Walk Of Shame was hard enough, but Cersei has become a whole other ordeal and Rhaella had forgotten about Jaimes imminent return until one of Cersei’s servants came to the door.

  “Speak.” 

  “A ship just pulled into the harbor from Dorne.” She replied. “Should I tell Her Grace?” 

Rhaella shook her head. She’d been listening to Cersei scream through the night since she’d brought her back into the Red Keep, and there had been a sinking feeling in her stomach since she’d stood in front of the Gates with blood dripping down her hand and head, thinking of nothing but her duty to Cersei and her promise to Jaime. 

  “Her Grace is sleeping,” the words sounded so bitter on her tongue. “I will greet Ser Jaime in the harbor myself. Please arrange to have breakfast brought as soon as she is awake.”

Her steps were heavy as she stepped into the morning and followed the path down to the Harbor where Jaime would be to meet her. 

Once Rhaella caught sight of his ship and the crew steering it, her heart leapt. He was right there, looking at her, a desperation in his eyes that she had not seen since he’d left.  
Her heart flew, 

It leapt,

And then when she saw the coffin, it sank. 

How was she supposed to tell him what they’d done to Cersei? How she had failed to keep her safe?

“Please arrange for Princess Myrcella taken to the Sept of Baelor.” Jaime spoke in a low tone to the two men who accompanied him off the boat. The rest had already made their way back to the ship. “I need to speak to Lady Rhaella, alone.” 

His men nodded without so much as a moment of hesitation and slowly lifted Myrcella’s coffin until they had a steady grip and disappeared on the path that lead back into the city. 

  “Jaime?” His name fell off her tongue as she slowly outstretched her hand and curled her fingers around his chin to turn his gaze back to her. His gaze was heavy. Sad. Guilty. “Jaime, look at me.” 

His eyes met hers.

Rhaella felt her breath catch when he slowly moved his stump to wind around her waist, the cold metal of his hand pressing against the small of her back. In he pulled her until she could feel his frantic heart beat beneath her fingers, and he settled his face into the crook of her shoulder and wept. 

She could do nothing but reciprocate the action and pull his head downward to run her fingers through his hair. 

 He didn’t speak until his sobs ceased. 

  _She’s my daughter, and I failed her._

Rhaella couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him be vulnerable. He’d barely allowed himself to feel the loss when he lost his hand.  Tywin had made it clear over the years that emotion was weakness, and gods forbid that any of his children be allowed to exhibit any kind of emotion. 

She was glad he was dead. 

  “Myrcella,” She kept her hands at his nape as he lifted his head from her shoulder. “I had her. I had her, Rhaella. The Dornish had given her and her intended up, and then she was  _gone_ -“

  “It wasn’t your fault, Jaime.” Rhaella whispered. “It’s not your fault that Ellaria Sand wanted revenge against your sister. And who better to take then the very thing she loves most.” 

That was when he noticed the bandage on her head and the hand that could barely grip Keeper. 

  “What happened to you?” 

  “The people.” 

She didn’t tell him about the man she killed or how she could still feel his hands on her body. How she’d never forget the way Cersei clung to her when she’d rescued her from the streets. 

Her thumb traced the outline of his bottom lip. Jaime simply watched her eyes, the entranced look in them and the gentle way she touched him. “Do you want to talk about that kiss now?” 

The way he looked at her was like a sick man administered the cure for his ailment. In this case, Rhaella was the cure, and Cersei was the ailment. 

The first kiss is how every other first kiss is. Hesitant, barely a brush against his lips to test the boundaries. When she pulled away to gauge his reaction, Jaime followed her with his mouth and oh, it’s unlike anything she’d ever experienced. He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and grinned at the sound it drew from her, teasing the seam of her lips open with his tongue, eager to know the taste of Rhaella Targaryen. 

Rhaella cradled his face in her hands, wishing he’d had that beard he’d grown before Harrenhal was there to run her fingers through. The feeling of pure awe and years worth of longing surged through her body as they slowly parted, lips a breadth apart and close enough to feel the shake of each breath he made. 

  “I’ve waited so long to do that.” 

The way she laughed.. it was a sound he wanted to hear from the tops of every mountain in Westeros. 

  “I grieve Myrcella with you. She was good. She was good and despite what Cersei has made you believe, she was  _yours_.” Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that someone might be watching, Rhaella pulled away from him. “But I need you to know now that I will not be toyed with. My heart is not yours, my life is not yours, not until I know that you won’t choose Cersei.” 

It was easy enough to understand. Jaime just felt guilty he’d brought her to this point. “I understand.” He replied.

  “You did say if I wanted a fool, I should find another woman.” 

  “I did.” 

  “And you are no fool.” 

_I was a fool for believing the Faith Militant would grant mercy for your sister._

Rhaella smiled. “I am no fool.” She extended her hand up the path that lead to the Red Keep. “Go see Cersei. Let her tell you what happened to me, to her. I’ll see you at Myrcellas funeral.” 

She was gone before he could argue.   
   
 

 


	22. Sweet Myrcella, Lost to a Viper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sparrow's song is getting unbearable, and Rhaella makes a mistake that may or may not cost her dearly. Jaime and Tommen deal with the aftermath of Myrcella's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep meaning to post on here first but because the other website I use has a save as draft option, I keep posting there! Here's the next chapter. Remember comments and kudos are so valued!

[AKA the one where I waited too long to write this and it's not as great as it could've been if I didn't go on hiatus, whoop-]

Ada laid her hands against her shoulders while Alice finished cleaning the remains of Rhaella's breakfast. “My Lady,” Ada said softly. “There is a cart downstairs waiting to take you to the Sept for the funeral of the princess.” 

Aching fingers danced along the scabbard of a red hilted dagger. “I don’t want to go to Myrcella’s funeral.” Rhaella replied. 

“I’m afraid Lord Lannister is insisting.” 

Rhaella snorted. Of course Jaime would be the one to arrange an escort for the two of them to the Sept of Baelor for his daughters funeral. It would be one of the only times they were ever alone together. “Fine.” Rhaella said. She stood to her feet and dusted off her dress. “If you could replace the sheets and leave me a clean tunic for later, it would be most appreciated.” 

Alice nodded from where she was gathering her clothes from the last several days. “Yes, M’Lady.” She called out. 

Rhaella took leave from her chambers and ventured out into the halls of the Red Keep. Tensions had been high since she’d been the one to tell her of Jaimes arrival and Myrcella’s death. Most of the castle had heard the screaming match that had occurred afterward, which was mostly Rhaella allowing Cersei to grieve and Jaime trying to calm her down. 

That had been the same time he’d insisted she served alongside him in the Lannister army. 

  “ _You want me to do what?”_

_“I will eventually be taking command of the Lannister army. Cersei certainly can’t do it, and it gives her a hold over our military sources if she has me in charge.” Jaime replied. “And when that time comes, I want you to be serving with me. Consider it as a way for me to pay my debt for taking care of Cersei while I was in Dorne.”_

It was two days later before Rhaella had given a reply. Jaime was offering her an escape from the city, an escape from the prying eyes of the people and the memory of her deceased family members who had never been lain to rest properly. Maybe this was what she needed - a new start - to prepare for the inevitable arrival of her sister when Daenerys departed for Westeros, if that time ever came. 

"My Lady, your ride to the Sept of Baelor is waiting for you." 

Rhaella's eyes keenly scanned the front of the Red Keep, half expecting to see either Jaime or Cersei waiting to ride along with her. No one was there to greet her except The Gold Cloaks who had been placed on watch since Cersei's Walk of Shame. "Where is Lady Cersei?" She asked. "It's custom for a mother to attend her daughter's funeral." 

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose the whereabouts of Lady Cersei." The Gold Cloak replied. He opened the door to the carriage and beckoned her inside. "In you go, My Lady." Rhaella lifted the bottom of her gown and slowly made her way into the carriage, sitting on the far right hand side beside a very pensive-looking Jaime Lannister. 

"Did you do this on purpose?" 

Even in his armor, Jaime still somehow managed to look as small and so opposite of all the Lannisters she'd ever met. It reminded her of when they'd first met - barely nine and eight - and she'd taught him how to read. He'd seemed small then because he thought it made him weaker, and here he was... small again, brought upon by the inability to keep his daughter alive. 

"I wanted to see you." He replied softly. A gloved hand turned hers over in his own and raised it to his lips to press a feather light kiss upon her palm. Rhaella couldn't help but smile. Even if these rare stolen moments were all she was permitted to see the affection Jaime had to offer, she'd take them. "I'm tired of losing, Rhaella. First Joff, then Myrcella, and she..." He ran his hands over his face. "She didn't deserve to die like  _that."_

"You're right." She hooked her finger beneath his jaw and turned his chin so they were almost nose to nose, using that same hand to sink her fingers into unkempt blonde hair. It was quite a thing to see them together, because even after all Jaime had done to her and all she had endured at the hands of the Lannisters since Robert's Rebellion, he still looked at Rhaella Targaryen as if she was the only thing in his miserable life who brought him any joy. "So make it mean something." 

Maybe she was his only source of joy. Who knew. 

Rhaella absently followed behind him as they ventured together into the Sept of Baelor. The inner sanctuary was quiet, alight with flicker candles placed in two lines that were separated by the dais that held Myrcella's body. She moved to stand on the opposite side of the dais, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes swept up and down the princess' form. 

She was so fragile, so pale, so lifeless. How could someone who had once been so beautiful be resorted to  _that_ because of a sheer act of revenge? 

"Uncle Jaime, Lady Rhaella." Tommen called out as he descended the stairs with two of The Kingsguard at his heels, flicking his wrist to motion them back out the front of the Sept. Both men complied willingly and disappeared back up the stairs. "I thank you for coming, My Lady. I know my sister and I mean a great deal to you." 

Consider this was the friendliest Tommen had been since she'd told him about Cersei's imprisonment, Rhaella feigned ignorance and bent low for a greeting bow. "You are correct, Your Grace." She replied. "Your family does mean a great deal to me. It is an honor to be here with you and your Uncle in celebration of your sister's life." She peered behind Tommen half expecting to see Cersei, but the halls were quiet. "Where is your Mother?" 

Tommen never answered her. Between him and The Gold Cloak at the front of the Red Keep, Rhaella had an inkling that he'd forced his mother to remain behind within the safety of the Keep for fear that the commoners would retaliate and do something far worse then a Walk of Shame. 

"Your Grace," 

Jaime lightly shook his head when he saw her hand go for Keeper. 

"Lord Commander," 

Despite what they had been told, Tommen and Jaime were both unaware of what had happened during Cersei's Walk. They hadn't seen the way the people had treated her, how the Sparrow had made her out to be this impure sinner who had to be mocked and ridiculed in order to atone for her sins. They hadn't seen the body of the man she killed, the blood she'd wiped onto his corpse before having to rescue Cersei from her worst enemy - herself. 

" _My Lady."_

Tommen was the first to speak. "I want to see my  _wife._ " He all but demanded, reminding Rhaella that Loras and Margaery had both been thrown into the dungeons under the accusations of lying in the holiest place, and laying with a member of the opposite sex on more then one account. 

"The Gods wait for Queen Margaery to confess her crimes and seek their mercy. The King must wait as well." 

She also hadn't thought to mention another crucial detail - the one where Rhaella had bargained for Cersei's release - before Jaime had fully return and reintegrated from his trip to Dorne. Judging by the tightness of his jaw and the tick of the muscle against the bone, she imagined it would become a topic of conversation in a matter of moments. 

"Go and see your mother, Tommen." 

The young ruler allowed himself that moment to gaze over his sister a final time before he mouthed, " _Thank you._ " to Rhaella and disappeared out of the main sanctuary. 

"You are a bold man." 

"On the contrary," The Sparrow replied. "I fear a great deal. The Father, The Mother, The Warrior." He ascended the stairs to Myrcella's dais and glanced down at the fallen princess. Both men remained oblivious to the presence of the woman who had moved to a parallel staircase and had taken a seat to watch the entire ordeal. "Do you know why we use these stones? To remind us not to fear death. We close our eyes on this world and open them on the next."

 "You must long for the next life." 

_Gods, don't let his anger dictate his actions. Not now. Not when he stands over his dead daughter._

_"_ In truth, I fear that too." 

"You imprisoned and humiliated my sister!" Jaime snapped. "And when the Lady Rhaella came to bargain for her release and insist on a fair trial, you  _denied_ that to her." 

Huh. Maybe she had told him about it. 

"Your sister sought the Gods mercy and atoned for her sins." 

A slow, mocking clap echoed in the Sept and turned the attention of both men towards the woman in their presence. "Well  _done_ , Sparrow." Rhaella said. "Look at you now, oh how the mighty rise higher when they use their power to mock and scorn people who don't deserve it! What you did to Lady Cersei wasn't atonement, it was  _punishment_ laid out in your own manner because you thought it  _right._ That's not the Gods mercy, that is the peoples arrogance." 

"And what about my sins?" Jaime asked. "I broke a sacred Oath and stabbed my King in the back. I killed my own cousin. When the Gods judged my brother guilty, Lady Rhaella and I helped him escape that justice. What atonement do I deserve?" 

He laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

"You would spill blood in this holy place?" 

"This place became defiled when you took rule of it and let the Faith Militant corrupt the very essence of our Faith." Rhaella replied. "If it were me, I would spill holy blood in this place without a second thought.'' The High Sparrow turned back around and frowned as she twirled Keeper between her fingers. There was not a semblance of fear in her gaze. Everything he saw was pure, divine hatred and defiance. "The Gods won't mind. They've spilled more blood then all of us combined." 

"Well, go on then." He extended his arms towards them both. "One of you. I deserve it. We are weak, vain creatures. We live only by the Mother's mercy." 

Rhaella slowly pivoted on her heel and watched as multiple sparrows flocked together on the staircases that surrounded Myrcella's dais. There were far too many of them for her and Jaime to take on their own. "You should have them closer if you mean for them to save you." 

"I don't. They'd never reach me before you struck. I believe the Lady would be able to do it just as quickly, but she too would succeed before they reached me." 

Jaime grimaced. "I've fought against worse odds." 

"No doubt many of us would fall." He replied. "But who are we? We have no names, no family, every one of us who stands before you is poor and powerless. And yet together, we can overthrow an empire." 

Rhaella froze in her place as a memory resurfaced in her mind. It was before she had turned ten, a very early learning experience when her Septa had begun teaching her the histories of Westeros and the Targaryen dynasties that had long fallen before her time. 

_King Jaeherys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, your memory will be honored this day._

Screw safety. Screw anyone who dared to threaten her, to wish harm upon her. Half of her life had been spent lingering in the shadows and waiting for the day her sister came to Westeros to reveal herself, reveal her true identity, and begin the next Targaryen dynasty. Rhaella had spent so much of her life cowering in fear of those who sat within the Red Keep that she'd forgotten everything her mother and Rhaegar had taught her about being a Queen. 

She was done hiding. 

Rhaella waited until Jaime had begun to move towards the doors of the Sept before she walked forward and caught the High Sparrow's tunic between her fingers, gripping just tightly enough to catch his attention. "King Jaeherys Targaryen, First of His Name, The Rhoynar, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of The Seven Kingdoms and Protector of The Realms. My  _ancestors_ overthrew your precious band of Sparrows the first time around." Her voice dropped just low enough for them to hear. "I intend to do the same." 

The High Sparrow stumbled as she threw him backwards onto the floor of the sanctuary, ignoring Myrcella's corpse as all of his little Sparrows lingering on the staircases surrounding the dais waited for their order to move in for the kill. Not a single soul moved to retaliate. 

"Good, you all are smarter then I gave you credit for." She called out. "Be wary of those with the family name  _Targaryen._ We have brought your Order to its knees before, and if you so much as step out of line as you did with Cersei Lannisters Walk of Shame, I very much intend to leash all levels of the Seven Hells upon you." 

They were fearful. 

Rhaella found she liked it when people feared her. 

"Go about your business." 

Jaime was fuming when she left the Sept. He'd spent half of his life being mocked by the common people, jibes of  _Kingslayer_ and  _Oathbreaker_ being thrown at him every waking moment. He'd been abandoned by his mother, abused by his father, manipulated by his sister, and the one good thing he had in the world had just told the most powerful man in King's Landing who she really was. 

Oh yes. 

There would be hell to pay. 


	23. Release from the Kingsguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is ever easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in love with this fic, I really am. The problem is that S6 SUCKS and I had a really hard time drafting something dramatic for this season, but it's gonna come next chapter. Leave me a review! It makes me more inclined to write!

"What did you just do?" 

Rhaella paid Jaime no mind until they were at the base of the steps that lead into the Sept of Baelor. There was no one around but her. A Targaryen, adorned in obsidian and scarlet, silver hair framing wild eyes that glimmered as she took in the city before her. Her city.  _Rhaella and Daenerys Targaryen._

"What did you  _do?!_ " 

It was Jaime's incessant nagging that threw her. Rhaella whipped around to face the younger Lannister twin, eyes flashing angrily as they stood toe to toe in front of the Sept of Baelor. " _I_ did what needed to be done, unlike you." She snarled. "Get in the box, you insufferable-" 

He grabbed the back of her dress and together they threw each other inside. 

"I did not spend half of my life feigning ignorance for you to throw yourself to..  _that!_ " Jaime exclaimed. "I don't care if you think you can overthrow the Faith Militant like Jaeherys did, he is not you and you are not him. You aren't indestructible here, Rhaella. Now that the High Sparrow knows who you are, he's going to have a massive target on your back-" 

"Let him. He can come for me all he wants, but he won't have the guts or the people to do it. Not when I'll already be out of this retched city and never returning to it." 

Jaime sat back against the bench and watched her facial expression. There was not a flicker of guilt, of fear, of dread. It was the most steely expression he had seen on Rhaella nearly the entire time they'd known each other. Part of him feared this was it, that this was the time he'd been dreading since the day he'd murdered Aerys Targaryen, where she'd see her potential and fall to the craving of power at the foot of the Throne she'd never wanted to sit on. 

"This city will fall to its knees if Tommen does not pull himself together, Jaime." His eyes flickered upward at the newfound softness of her tone. "Margaery is making her Walk of Atonement this afternoon. Her father can't stop it, Olenna can't stop it, Tommen can't stop it. This  _Sparrow_ isn't here to seek redemption. He's here to punish people in the way he sees fit. The people of this city are cruel. They'll eat that up." She leaned forward on her knees and tilted her head. "Cruelty is a trademark of King's Landing. High borns and lowborns alike.. they  _thrive_ off of the misery of other people. You know who else does that?" 

"No." 

" _Cersei._ " She smoothed the fabric of her dress out and slid her hand upward to unsheathe Keeper.  _“_ I will not support a Lannister dynasty with Cersei sitting on the throne that overlooks this country. If Tommen doesn't get his act together, that crown will weigh him down so much he won't be able to bear it. It'll be the end of him." 

His breath caught in his throat at the thought of his youngest son's demise as he fell from power. It had happened to Joffrey, it had happened by association to Myrcella, and now it would happen to him. 

"I spent years being tormented by her. I won’t let her do it to anyone else.” 

***

Less then seven hours later, Rhaella was standing in the Throne Room watching Jaime carelessly throw his Kingsguard armor to the floor after a failed stunt to retrieve Margaery and Loras from the Sept. 

"When you attack The Faith, you are also attacking The Crown. Anyone who attacks the Crown is unfit to serve as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard." 

She swallowed the knot in her throat and remained still deeper in the crowd of the gathered ladies of the court. Rhaella hadn't been there when Jaime and Mace Tyrell had gone with their collected armies to the Sept, but she'd heard enough from Olenna to know it hadn't even remotely gone according to plan. 

"I've been a member of the Kingsguard since before you were  _born._ " Jaime snapped back. "You don't have to do this, you don't have to do anything!" 

"I have to answer to the Gods." Tommen replied. 

He'd never looked more his years then in the midst of this argument with his father. 

"Not when you're sitting in that chair." Jaime said. 

"The Crown's decision on this matter is final." Her heart sank at the sag of Jaime's shoulders. This had been his purpose since he was  _seventeen._ A purpose that included serving whoever currently sat on the Iron Throne. What on Earth would Tommen do without him? Where would he serve? What would  _she_ do?

"Am I going to be walking naked in the streets? Or will I spend a few months in the Sept dungeons first to teach me about the Gods mercy?" 

Tommen's following words were the nail in the proverbial coffin. 

"You have served your house and your King faithfully for many years." He announced. "And you will continue to do so, but not in this city." The boy-king rose his hand and flicked it backward. "Lady Rhaella Mormont, please step forward." 

_What?_

Keeping her head held high, Rhaella parted the crowd and descended the steps until she stood beside Jaime at the bottom of the Iron Throne. "Your Grace," She greeted. "I'm not entirely sure how I pertain to this-" 

Tommen held his hand up and stood to his feet as he addressed the crowd of people who stood before him and Kevan Lannister. "The High Sparrow has made it known to me that the beloved older daughter of Aerys Targaryen has been living under the noses of the people of this City since the Sack." A chorus of gasps echoed in the room, and Jaime felt his heart drop. This announcement had been a long time coming. There was nothing he could do to prevent it now. "I have heard whisperers that many of the commoners loved you when you ventured the city with Rhaegar I have no reason to not believe them. The country mourned your brother just as it mourned you." 

Rhaella dipped her head to her chest as she could feel waves of resentment radiate from the crowd around her. Resentment for hiding so long, for not taking the throne for herself, for not giving the people of Westeros a ruler they deserved. One who would fight  _for_ them, and not  _against_ them. 

"My father, may he rest in peace, would've had you executed on the spot." 

_Please, Tommen. Just this once. Mercy._

Jaime screwed his eyes tightly shut to ignore the scrutiny from his uncle and son as he waited for the inevitable declaration that he would be forced to watch his best friend and the woman he- no. Not yet. He can't think about that, not now, not when he is so close to losing her. 

"Fortunately, I am not my father." Tommen replied. He watched her from the corner of his eye for any sign of fear, but once again found that her expression was steely. "Rhaella Targaryen, Second of Her Name, daughter of The Mad King and The Dragons' Keeper.." 

Her smile died. 

"I hereby banish you from King's Landing under the allegations of falsehood and treason." He proclaimed. Murmurs of disagreement rose from the crowd. When Rhaella moved to defend herself, Tommen simply shook his head. "As I said, I am not my father. Despite being a Targaryen, you have served the Crown, my mother, and House Lannister for many years. You will continue to do so, but not in this city." 

"And where would you have me go, Your Grace?" She said, desperate to hide the shake in her voice for fear that he'd recognize the fear in her eyes. King's Landing had been her home since she was a child. If Daenerys had yet to arrive in Westeros, where was she going to go? What was she going to do? "If I am to leave the city I have known my entire life, I will be dead in days without a destination." 

"My grandfather believed you to be a very competent fighter despite the fact that many women do not or will not wield a blade. You will accompany my Uncle and be a crucial member in the leadership of the Lannister army." Her eyes widened as Jaime immediately moved to argue, but they were both shut down by Kevan. "Thank you, Uncle. My Lady. You are dismissed." 

Jaime followed on Rhaella's heels as they left the throne room. 

***

"Rhaella-" 

"Don't." She held her hand up to halt him as they approached her chambers. "I don't know what Tommen is thinking, Jaime. I might be a fighter, but I'm not Brienne." He winced at the mention of their friend whom neither had seen since they'd sent her looking for Sansa. "We leave on the morrow to retake Riverrun. It's been a while since I've left the city, and since I can't come back, I'll be needing to take most of which I own." 

"I didn't think he was going to  _banish_ you!" Jaime exclaimed. "And even then, if you hadn't said anything to the High Sparrow-" 

Tense silence filled the hall as her hand whipped around and collided with his cheek so hard that scarlet bloomed across his face. "You were the one who wanted  _Rhaella Targaryen_ and not the poor intimidation of a scared, fragile Northern girl banished from her home. You wanted the fire and blood. Now you got it."

"Don't use your anger to shut me out." He said firmly. "Not me." 

"Why shouldn't I?" 

"Because  _I_ am the one who saved  _you._ " He whispered hoarsely. Despite the obvious rage flickering through icy blue eyes, Rhaella softened as he extended his flesh hand and ran his fingers over her elbow and down her arm until their fingers were laced. 

After spending almost the entire day arguing on something that he shouldn't have had any say in to begin with, she was reluctant to accept his touch. The longer he stared at her, gentle fingers wrapped through her own and eyes pleading for her to listen for just  _this_ minute, made her want to succumb to her desire for comfort. "We have alot to do tomorrow. I think it's time we both rest." She said quietly. Rhaella swallowed the knot in her throat. "Goodnight, Ser Jaime." 

When the door shut behind her and Jaime retreated down the hall, the eldest daughter of Aerys Targaryen wept silently as she prepared herself for the inevitable end of her time in the city where her fallen laid. Her father. Her brother. Her mother. It would also be the final resting place of her and Daenerys, if Fate kept pursuing Targaryens. 

Weary eyes landed on the chest at the foot of the bed. Unlatching the lock, she lifted the lid and peered inside. 

"Farewell to the fear," Out came the obsidian breastplate. "Farewell to the grief, and the anger, and the hatred." Out came the greaves. "Farewell to the dead and farewell to the lost." Out came the boots and the chainmail. Rhaella's eyes swept along the bottom of the chest where she'd stored Blackfyre, scabbard and sword, after the Faith Militant had risen in power. "And hello to the warrior, may you stand in battle unlike any you have ever faced before." 

Steel rang in the air as she unsheathed the blade. 

"And may your aim be true, your heart fierce, your feet swift.. for the steadfast loyalty you hold for the Kingslayer will be your undoing."

Rhaella caught her expression in the metal of her sword. 

"If it hasn't been already." 


	24. Whatever We Were (It’s Not Together)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things we do for love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of adored this chapter. As of this posting, there are only 16 chapters left! Thank you so much for getting this fic so much attention. I was never expecting it to make 1000 reads let alone have more then 50 kudos. You made it worth the time.
> 
> Leave a review!! The more I get, the faster you get content!

_I wanted to stay,_

_I wanted to stay,_

_but then I heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder._

_That's when I ran._

_< ><><><><><><<><><>_

One. Two. Three. Four. 

"If you so much as call me Kingslayer's Whore one more time, I swear by all the Gods I will kick you so hard that you won't be able to have children." 

"Have you ever wanted to have children?" 

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. 

"Cause if you keep looking at me like that, you'll be a eunuch by sunup." 

Jaime had been told each time Rhaella insulted the Lannister soldiers when they so much as glanced at her the wrong way, and if they hadn't been so terrified, the entire thing would've been hilarious. The only problem was that even if he  _did_ want to confront her about it, she wasn't exactly on speaking terms with him after what had happened in the throne room. 

Then Brienne and Podrick had appeared at the crest of the hill overlooking the castle at Riverrun, and it was like something inside of her had suddenly mended at the sight of her long-lost friend. 

_"It looks like a siege, M'Lady."_

_Brienne smiled as she examined the terrain spread out before her in which the Lannister army had made their camp. "You have a keen military mind, Pod." She replied. The squire had become much like a son to her in the time they'd been together, and she was only growing increasingly prouder with every victory he achieved. "But I didn't think she did."_

_"She?"_

_"Rhaella Targaryen." She extended one finger down the hill to where Jaime was riding through the center of camp, and had it not been for the flicker of silver hair, Podrick wouldn't have recognized one of Tyrion's supposedly ''dead'' best friend. "Stay close."_

That was how Jaime found himself enclosed in a tent with the woman he loved and her best friend. Two of the most important people in his life besides Cersei. 

"I never thought you'd find her." Jaime replied proudly, green eyes shifting back and forth between Brienne and Rhaella who had remained remarkably quiet on the topic of Sansa's rescue from Winterfell. "I just assumed Sansa was dead." 

"Why on Earth would you think that?" 

"In my experience, girls like her don't live very long." 

Rhaella was struck with the few memories she had of her time with the Stark girl; Of bold moves in the face of the King who had tried to abuse her in front of the court, of whispered secrets that held the truth of her identity and the way Sansa had confided in her about Bran and Arya, and the very day the eldest Stark daughter had been lost at a wedding that had turned into a funeral. 

"Jaime," She said pointedly. "I don't think you know very many girls like her." 

"Well, I'm proud of you." Jaime replied. "I'm sure I can speak for Rhaella as well when I say  _we_ are. You fulfilled your oath to Catelyn Stark against all odds. Of course, my sister wants Sansa dead. The girl is still a suspect in Joffrey's murder so there is that complication." 

"You know as well as I do that Sansa had nothing to do with it." Rhaella snapped. "I have a more important question." Her attention turned to Brienne who smirked as their eyes locked with one another. "As  _thrilled_ as I am to see you, Bree.. what are you doing here?" 

"I've come for the Blackfish." 

"You're welcome to have him." Jaime interjected. 

"Lady Sansa desires to take her ancestral seat back from the Boltons and assume her rightful position as the Lady of Winterfell." 

Rhaella whistled, clearly impressed by such a brazen move on the behalf of the elder Stark. "That's a feat to admire, if she were to succeed. What army does she plan on using in order to obtain that which she desires?"

"The Tully Army." Brienne stated. 

"They're a bit occupied at the moment. We were sent here to reclaim Riverrun which is currently occupied by the Tully rebels, so you can see the conundrum here." 

Brienne furrowed her brow at Jaime's statement. "The Tully's are rebels because they're fighting for their  _home?_ " She asked. 

"Riverrun was granted to the Frey's by royal decree." 

Rhaella ran her hands over her face exasperatedly. "The boy king who  _gave_ that decree would sooner murder and torture people in his spare time then do something that even seemed remotely rational. Giving the Freys the rights to Riverrun was  _stupid_. My father wouldn't have even done something like that." 

"They were given it as a reward for betraying Robb Stark and  _slaughtering_ his family!" Brienne exclaimed. 

"Exactly." Jaime replied. 

Seeing the implication that hung tensely in the air, Rhaella swallowed the knot in her throat and shifted beneath the obsidian armor she'd donned when they left King's Landing. "I am feeling as if this is a conversation I should no longer be a part of," She said. "So if you two don't mind, I'm walking out of the tent." 

Jaime held his hand up. "No. I'd really rather you stay here for this. The three of us shouldn't be talking about politics." 

Brienne straightened her spine and met Rhaella's gaze, as if she were silently asking her to remain quiet so she could hear what was about to be said to Jaime. "Ser Jaime, you're a Knight." Brienne spoke, almost as if to reaffirm it to him. "I know there is honor in you. I've seen it myself." 

"I'm a Lannister." Jaime replied matter-of-factly. "Don't ask me to betray my own House." 

Brienne shook her head. "I do no such thing. Take Riverrun without bloodshed. Ride south with your mission complete and your army intact, and your best weapon whole." She nudged her head at Rhaella. "Believe it or not, your best ally right now? It's each other." 

Jaime didn't have to verbally confirm she was right when it was written all over his face. "What do you propose?" He asked. 

"Let me enter Riverrun under a flag of truce. Let me persuade the Blackfish to give up the Castle." 

"Why would he abandon his ancestral home?" 

"Because you'll allow him to lead the Tully forces safely North." Brienne replied through gritted teeth. Rhaella's jaw dropped as she realized that this entire charade was all a ploy, a means for Sansa to keep both her family together and her home the ability to keep standing underneath the Stark name. 

_She just wants what I could never have._

"Have you ever met the Blackfish?" 

"No." 

"He's even more stubborn than you are." Rhaella snorted as Jaime rubbed the bridge of his nose and rounded the map table. "Alright. Try to talk some sense into the old goat. He won't listen, but his men might. Not everyone wants to die for someone else's home." 

Almost immediately Brienne replied, "I need your word. If I persuade him to abandon the castle, you'll grant us safe passage North." 

Jaime nodded. "You have my word." 

Brienne looked over her shoulder to Rhaella. "Lady Targaryen," She called out, drawing her attention away from the dagger and back to the straw-haired knight. " _Rhaella_ , I need your word as well. Despite what you may want.. you're a part of this now." 

Rhaella feigned a smile and nodded. "You have my word too, Bree." 

Both of them frowned when Brienne began to remove her scabbard from her waist, the same scabbard that held Oathkeeper. She extended her hand to him with the sword in her grasps. "You gave it to me for a purpose." She said softly. "I have achieved that purpose." 

"It's yours. It'll always be yours." 

Rhaella didn't speak again until after Brienne left the tent. "You know," She called out. "If you're forced to meet her on the battlefield, I don't think you'll have the guts to kill her. She means too much to you already." Jaime opened his mouth to reply when she stood to her feet and twirled the dagger between her fingers. "It would be if you were meeting  _me_ on the battlefield. Devastating on both sides." 

"I pray we never have to be on opposite sides of the battlefield."

"Praying got us nowhere, Jaime." Rhaella glanced over her shoulder to meet his eyes. "I hope it never comes to that, because despite my rage, I don't think I'll be able to do it either." 

***

Jaime left her with her thoughts almost the rest of the afternoon. There were only a handful of Lannister soldiers that she spoke to in a professional manner as most of them only saw her as  _fresh meat,_ so most of the time she'd had since Brienne went into the castle was spent practicing with Blackfyre or sharpening Keeper. 

Until night fell and she followed Jaime to the tent where Edmure Tully was being kept prisoner. 

"Lord Edmure. I apologize for the way the Frey's have treated you." Jaime greeted. "A man of your birth deserves better. You have my word that you'll be fed and clothed." 

Edmure lifted his head and glared at the Kingslayer. "I have your  _word?_ " He jeered. "Oh, good. That's.. that's a fine thing. My uncle will  _never_ surrender the castle to whatever game you're playing." 

"The Blackfish is an old man. A good death is all he can hope for at this point. But you?" He jabbed a thumb at his prisoner as Jaime sat down. "You have a child, or so I've heard. A son sired on your wedding night. You're a potent man." 

"A son I've never met." Edmure replied. "Born of a wife I haven't seen since our first night together." 

"You should be with them both. I can arrange that, you realize. Comfortable rooms for you at Casterly Rock. A tutor for your boy, knights to train him to fight and to ride. When he comes of age, he'll have a Keep of his own." 

Rhaella quieted her breathing as Edmure continued. ''Do you imagine yourself a decent person?" He asked. "Is that it? After you've massacred my family, kept me in a cell for years and stolen our lands." 

"I'll remind you that our Houses are at war. I'm sorry if this conflict has inconvenienced you but rebelling against the crown does have consequences." 

"Says the man who shoved his sword through his king's back." Edmure spat. "Word has it that Rhaella Targaryen has been living in subjugation since the Sack of King's Landing. That she's even abandoned her family name for that of the Lannisters because  _you_ kept her safe all these years. Do you think that saving her life makes you a better person? You might as well have killed her right then. Targaryens are nothing but fire and blood. Better to have rid the world of her when you killed her father to keep us from another slaughter." 

Rhaella couldn't fault Edmure for that statement when he was right. There had been a successive line of Targaryen kings who'd all gone insane in the end, and most of them had tried to do what her father had attempted to some degree. Insanity was a given for those who held her family name. 

Unless they were resilient like her and adamant to not succumb to it. 

"Did I give you the impression this was a negotiation?" Jaime asked. "Because it's not."

"You understand. You understand on some level that you're an evil man. Saving that girl doesn't make you better. It makes you weaker." 

"I'll leave the judgement to the Gods." 

"Well, that is convenient for you." They paused to listen to the sound of soldier's voices and hoofbeats outside the main door to the tent. "You're a fine looking fellow. Your square jaw, your golden armor. Tell me.. I want to know. I truly do. How do you live with yourself?"

Jaime's eyes fell to the floor, expression somber. 

"How do you tell yourself that you're decent? All of us, we have to believe that we're decent. Don't we? We have to sleep at night. How do you tell yourself that you're decent, after everything that you've done?" 

He wasn't about to inform the older Tully of the silver-haired girl who'd fight by his side any time he asked when they were kids, or the same girl who'd grown to be his youngest brother's guardian angel as they grew older, or the woman who had left everything she had ever known to fight a war that wasn't hers to begin with. 

Rhaella being  _alive_ was his answer to Edmure's question. 

"I was your sisters prisoner once." Jaime said. "She hit me on the head with a rock, if I remember correctly. Catelyn Stark  _hated_ me just like you hate me. I didn't hate her though. I admired her far more then I did her husband or her sons."

"Do you think I care who you admire and who you don't?!" 

"No, but I'm telling you anyway." Jaime replied cooly. "Because you're my prisoner, and you don't have a choice. The love she had for her children.. I was awed by it. It reminded me of my sister. Your sister was a strong-" 

" _Don't_ talk about Cat!" 

Rhaella winced as Edmure began thrashing against the pole he was tied to. "I'll talk about whoever I want. Your sister loved her children. I suppose all mothers do, but with Catelyn and Cersei there's a fierceness you don't often see. They'd do anything to protect their babies." Jaime stood to his feet and took deliberate steps forward until he and Edmure were close enough to each other to see the expression in the others aspect. There wasn't so much as a tinge of  _fear_ or  _satisfaction_ in Jaime. It just seemed that he was proud to elicit such a reaction without barely breaking a sweat. "Start a war. Burn cities to ash. Free their worst enemies. The things we do for love." 

Dread settled in her stomach. This was going in a direction Rhaella wasn't entirely comfortable with. 

"You didn't come here to talk about our sisters." 

"That's  _exactly_ why I came here." Jaime replied. "I  _love_ Cersei. She needs me. You can laugh at that, you can sneer.. It doesn't matter. To get back to her, I have to take Riverrun. I'll launch you into Riverrun with a catapult because you don't matter to me. Your son doesn't matter to me. The people in the castle  _don't_ matter to me. Only Cersei." 

She didn't stay to hear the rest of Jaime's interrogation. She didn't stay to hear his veiled threats or the way Edmure shuddered at the thought of his family being fully massacred by the Lannisters. She ran to her tent and threw her things into the saddlebags of her Palfrey, leaving her side of Jaime's tent barren with the exception of the hastily scrawled note fastened to the table by a blunt dagger she'd stolen from the armory. 

_I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay but then I heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder. That's when I ran._

***

After his conversation with Edmure Tully and the successful siege of Rivverun, Jaime rode the rest of the way through camp until he came upon his own tent and tied his horse to the post outside of it. "Rhaella, they've made up food, do you want-" He parted the entrance and paused at the  _emptiness_ of his quarters, suddenly noticing that Rhaella's side she'd been occupying the last several days no longer held her things. "Rhaella?" 

His heart stopped at the dagger that pierced the note that lay over Dragonstone. Jaime removed the dagger from the map table and opened the letter to read it. 

_Jaime,_

_I tried. I really did. I came with you to Riverrun after your release from the Kingsguard not only because I had to, but because I thought this was it. Your opportunity to become the man you’d always wanted to be. I thought I’d seen it when Brienne came into your tent and tried to give you back Oathkeeper because she’d fulfilled her duty in finding Sansa and returning her to Winterfell. I thought I’d seen it when she asked you to take Riverrun without bloodshed._

_Words can’t describe the pride that swelled within me in that moment. This was it. This was him. The same boy who’d trained me on the cliffside at King’s Landing, the same boy who kept me safe from those who’d do me harm._

_Then I heard what you said to Edmure about Cersei, and that same hatred I’d had at sixteen when you cut my father down at the foot of the Iron Throne came bubbling back to the surface._

_I hate you. I really do. I hate how weak you’ve made me, how you make me feel more now then I have in my entire life. I hate how loyal I am to you and how I just want to rip my heart out and lay it at your feet._

_And then I weep because I, Rhaella Targaryen, am in love with you, most ardently._

_I am in love with an honorable man who sacrificed his reputation for me. Who claims he’s too selfish to let me go.. but loves me too much to leave. The very man who sacrificed his sword hand for the woman who eventually became my best friend. You’re so much more then this thing Cersei has created you to be, Jaime. You’ve been manipulated nearly your entire life to believe that you have to meet this unrealistically high expectation because you’re a Lannister. That you have to hide your feelings, your love, for fear of ridicule by the people around you._

_That’s not what I want._

_I don’t want the Jaime Lannister I bargained for at Robb Stark’s camp all those years ago. I don’t want the one who cares what people think about him, the one with the sharp tongue and cunning eyes with the best sword hand in Westeros. The_ **_arrogant_ ** _Jaime._

_I want you. The you with the breathless smile when I used to beat you in sparring. The you who can’t help but laugh when I kiss your nose at the end of the day. I want you, all of you, apart from Tywin and Cersei. Just you._

_Just Jaime._

_But I cannot wait around for it like I have been since you came back from Dorne and kissed me the first time. It’s too painful, watching someone you care for so deeply be in love with someone else. I should’ve left years ago. It’s what would’ve been best, and so that’s what I’m doing now._

_Last I heard from Varys, Daenerys had obtained the resources she needed to sail to Westeros and will soon be arriving at Dragonstone. That’s where I’ll be. Maybe my purpose in all of this is to get Daenerys on the Iron Throne and serve beside her. I don’t know. Your brother is bound to be with her, and I’m sure he’d be more then willing to convince Daenerys not to slaughter you on the spot._

_I’m going to leave you one last choice, Jaime.  Think of all you know about this sister you so claim to love. How she’s hurt you. How Cersei shunned you when you lost your hand, how venomous she remained when you hid me away from the world to save House Targaryen from certain demise. You are a better man then Cersei will ever believe you to be. The way I feel for you has not and will never change._

His heart sank when he realized she’d changed the way she normally ended her letters. Years had been spent gazing at the words all my love, but now she had changed it. Jaime feared his ignorance had also changed her. 

_Sincerely, Rhaella Targaryen_

_The Dragons' Keeper_

 


	25. The Twins That Aren't Lannisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loyalty Versus Love.   
> Rhaella arrives at Dragonstone, and the other twins who live in King's Landing choose their Lady over the Lannisters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a filler, but comments are appreciated!

"Alice, what are you doing?!" 

Alice looked over her shoulder to her younger sister who stood in the doorway, mouth agape as she surveyed their Lady's room. Rhaella had been out of King's Landing for a number of days by the time the twins found themselves in her chambers and began rifling through her things for their belongings. Ada had believed them to be in a separate part of the Keep, but Alice had been specifically told by Rhaella to keep their belongings intermixed so Cersei would have no reason to snoop through their personal lives. 

"Our Lady prepared us for this, Ada." Alice replied, grimacing as she threw her younger sister's satchel towards her, packed to the brim with supplies. "She said it would not be long before The Queen turned her eyes in our direction, and the whispers among the servants is that you and I are the next to be-" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Dealt with. Most likely killed, seeing as how we're the servants to a supposedly treasonous high born." 

"Lady Rhaella is far from treasonous-" 

Alice held up her hand. "We went into this  _knowing_ she was a Targaryen. She's the only one who has a claim to the Iron Throne, never mind her sister in Essos who's coming to Westeros to take it from her. If anyone deserves to sit on that chair, it's her. We know it. She confided in us when Lord Jaime was  _right there_ , she trusted us.." She eyed the scabbard at the bottom of the chest. Whenever Rhaella and Tywin had come to claim them as her servants, the older woman had a conversation with her at length about the need to learn to defend herself, and so she'd begun teaching Alice how to fight after Brienne of Tarth had taught her. Alice was no warrior, but she could protect her sister. That was enough. "It's about time we returned the favor. We're leaving King's Landing." 

Ada agreed with everything her sister was saying, but had never known a life outside of King's Landing and was thus reluctant to leave it. "But-But our lives are here!" 

"Our lives will  _end_ here if we stay." Alice straightened the strap of Ada's satchel and managed a weak smile. "Wait until nightfall before going to saddle two horses. We have an escape plan that Lady Rhaella and I made months ago. We're leaving the city tonight." 

"And where are we going?" Ada asked. 

Alice opened her map of Westeros and pointed to the Narrow Sea. "To the ancestral seat of the Targaryens." She replied. " _Dragonstone."_

***

When she was alone, Rhaella dreamt of Daenerys. The dreams were different then the ones she'd had before rescuing Jaime from the hands of Catelyn Stark. Daenerys was much older and surrounded by the infamous Unsullied, silver haired plaited in the manner of the Dothraki culture. Cold blue eyes surveyed the Narrow Sea and swept across the skies to follow the flight of her dragons that lingered overhead the ships painted in the colors of House Targaryen. 

She arrived at Dragonstone a few days after departing from Riverrun. Her mind lingered on Jaime.  _Jaime. Jaime. Jaime._ The greater majority of her life after the murder of Aerys had been living in subjugation of the Lannisters for fear that she'd be executed as the rest of her family had been. She'd taken Cersei's torment, longed for the ability to be a mother while watching her play with her children, and grieved her inability to love Jaime the way she desired to while he pursued Cersei. 

Part of Rhaella wished he'd just killed her when he'd killed her father. It would've saved her so much heartache, so much torment, so much  _anguish_ if she'd just died before realizing how deeply she loved Jaime Lannister. 

What a better world that would've been. 

Her entire life had been a battle of loyalty versus love. She was loyal to Jaime because he'd saved her life, but what had he done to deserve her unmerited favor? He'd manipulated her heart, killed her father, toyed with her emotions and continued pursuing his sister well knowing how she felt about him. Or at least she  _thought_ he knew how he felt about her. Jaime was broken, beaten, a mere fragment of the person she'd known before her father had taken him into the Kingsguard. Rhaella had told Cersei as much. 

But then he'd broken her out of the cells and they'd saved Tyrion, they'd fought together for the Red Keep whenever the city had been sacked, he was the same boy who wouldn't cooperate with his Maester because no one could teach him to read but her. He'd sought her out first after arriving home from Dorne.. he'd saved her  _life._ It hadn't been Rhaegar who taught her how to fight. It had been Jaime. It hadn't been Cersei who saved her life after Robert had killed Rhaegar and would've killed her, it had been  _Jaime._

Jaime Lannister was the product of his upbringing. He'd been raised in a harsh environment void of the love he'd lost when Joanna had died. He'd never been allowed to show emotion, to know what  _real_ love looked like. He'd lived a life of scorn and ridicule and had gone around being mocked for decades.  He deserved the ability to love openly, to love the way that she loved him. 

That wasn't coming any time soon, and Rhaella was done waiting for him to choose either her or Cersei. He'd make his choice on his own without any input from her. If Jaime had real her letter thoroughly, he knew how she felt about him. 

Her purpose now was Daenerys. Getting Daenerys on that throne, teaching her the mistakes of other Targaryen kings and showing her how to be  _better._

Her journey found her at the front gates of Dragonstone. 

The ancestral seat of the Targaryens had been abandoned since Stannis Baratheon had marched on Winterfell, albeit the scarce amount of supplies his army had left around the Keep before evacuating it. She found her way around remarkably well given how long it had been since coming here, and Rhaella eventually found herself within what she would've referred to as the Throne Room. 

She settled herself in rather quickly. Storing her belongings in the largest chamber, Rhaella spent much of her time reading the records of the Targaryens before her to brush up on the knowledge she'd gained from the Septa as a child. She ventured through the Keep and learned the structural weaknesses and strengths, polished Keeper and Blackfyre and stored them in her chambers on display for when Daenerys arrived. 

It was the safest she'd felt since childhood. 

It was nearly a week after leaving Riverrun that she realized  _someone_ was trying to get into the castle. After a thorough investigation of the parapets and the solars nearest to the front gates, Rhaella found two blonde girls climbing the staircase with what looked to be everything they owned on their backs. It wasn't until she drew on them that she realized it was Alice and Ada. 

"Alice! Ada!" The twins gasped as their Lady easily navigated down the stairs, dressed in a loose cream colored tunic and worn breeches she often wore when she was alone, silver haired tied back into a neat ponytail that left her face visible. "How-What are you two doing here?" 

Ada looked to her older sister for an answer. They'd had a trying time on the road and then ferrying themselves on a lone dingy to get to the island, and they were both very tired. "Lady Cersei was suspicious of where our loyalties lay." She replied. "Whether or not they were to the Lannisters or to  _you_ , and she couldn't have more Targaryen supporters. The servants said she was looking to deal with us, so we left. It took us.. well, a long time to get here." 

"We're not cut out for life on the road, My Lady." Ada replied. "Fortunately, I spent a few days working with Maester Qyburn before we departed from the city. He taught me some things about medicine, the bare minimum,  _and_ he taught me how to send ravens." 

Rhaella rose an eyebrow. So  _that_ was what they did when she wasn't around. "You didn't happen to-" 

Ada pointed further down the staircase where a lone cage sat carrying the only raven they'd managed to smuggle from the city. "It was a struggle to get it here, but if you need any messages sent," The younger twin grinned widely. "I'm yours.'' 

"You two.." Rhaella breathed. "You left King's Landing, defied the Lannisters, narrowly escaped death and ventured all the way here.. for me?" 

Both the girls bowed. "You saved us, My Lady." Alice murmured. "You saw us when no one else did, and you loved us despite who we were. A highborn loving commoners the way you do.. it doesn't happen. You have all the qualities of a Queen that Westeros would adore, and we are with you every step of the way." 

_They're simply doing their duty. They're devoted, they're loyal..._

"Did Lord Lannister intercept you when you left the Red Keep?" 

Alice furrowed her brow. "No, My Lady. Ser Jaime still hadn't returned from Riverrun whenever we left, but we heard he was returning and you were not with him. Most of King's Landing knows you're currently missing, but they don't know where. You told me you'd come here in your most dire times of need," She tilted her head back and smiled as the sunlight warmed her skin. "And I believe this is one of those times." 

"Lord Lannister cares for you a great deal, Lady Rhaella." Ada said. "I never once doubted his devotion to you.. but maybe his duty to his family clouded his affection for you, and it will be the worst moment of his life when he realizes that the only person who he can trust wholly is no longer with him. That's when he'll fall harder then he has since the death of your father." 

Rhaella pursed her lips. Maybe Ada was right. Jaime would have to come to the realization that she was no longer on his side, and he'd have to learn to stand on his own without the one person who had been holding him up since he was ten-and-seven. 

"My dear, I'd like you to send a message for me." Rhaella wrapped her arms around the twins and lead them into the main Keep. "After I get you acquainted with the castle, of course." 

"Absolutely. To whom and where will I send it?" 

Her eyes fell on the throne. "Brienne of Tarth, in Winterfell. She's the sworn sword to Sansa Stark, and I think it's time my best friend knows I'm alive and no longer with the Lannisters." 


	26. Cersei Lannister, First of Her Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone undeserving of the title takes the Iron Throne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still in awe of how much attention this fic has gotten on here. Thank you all so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate it!

After realizing they really had nothing better to do, the twins sat Rhaella down on the throne and began asking her stories about her childhood and growing up with the Lannister children. Word had not reached them yet about the destruction to be wreaked upon King's Landing, and so Rhaella was more then happy to oblige. 

"Okay." She replied, quirking an eyebrow as the girls clapped giddily. She often forgot that they were not yet in their twenties and were still young. "What do you want to know?" 

"The servants at the Red Keep said you used to spend much time with the Imp." Alice said as she crossed her legs beneath her. "Is that true?! We were told he was a whoremonger!" 

Ada slapped her sister's arm. "Alice! That's no way to speak of a highborn!" 

Rhaella snickered and nodded. "There was a time where Tyrion Lannister could be classified as a whoremonger. That was quite a while ago, though." Before she and Jaime had smuggled him out of the city and to Pentos to prevent an almost inevitable death, Rhaella could not recall a time he'd slept with anyone who wasn't Shae. He was rather devoted to the girl, and then Tyrion had killed her when she was found in Tywin's bed. "Tyrion Lannister is and will always be one of the best people I know. He's a good man." 

"You should hate the Lannisters for what they did to you." It was said so quietly she almost didn't hear it, but as soon as Alice said it, she pressed her lips together and thought about all the things she'd endured at the hands of the Lannisters since Robert's Rebellion. 

"I should, but I don't. I love Tyrion. He's like my younger brother." She replied. "I spent a lot of his early years protecting him from Cersei. It was her favorite pastime, letting him know just how much she despised him because he supposedly killed her mother when he was born. Joanna Lannister died on her birthing bed, but it wasn't Tyrion's fault." She thought of the night Tyrion had been dragged to the lion pits at Casterly Rock and she'd knocked Cersei unconscious before leaving her in the sand, snickering when she woke the next morning and screamed so loud it woke the entire Rock. "I suppose if I'm to hate anyone for what happened to me-" 

"It should be Jaime." 

"It should be Cersei." 

Rhaella's eyes flickered between the twins as they gaped at each other. "It should be  _Cersei._ " She corrected. "Despite the emotional turmoil I've been through in regards to my relationship with Ser Jaime, all of my troubles were because of  _Cersei._ She didn't want me to love her brothers, she didn't want me to be a threat to her crown. Cersei Lannister does not like people who threaten her rise to power, and that's why I was kicked out of the city." She snorted. "Like that's going to make a difference." 

"Do you want the crown?" Alice asked. "I believe you'd be the best Queen that Westeros has seen in a century. Forget your sister.." Rhaella rose an eyebrow at the mention of Daenerys, and Alice blushed deep scarlet before she continued. "You heard it when Ser Jaime lost his Kingsguard status. The people know  _you_ and love  _you._ Why should she get the throne just because she holds the same last name as you? The right is  _yours_ , My Lady. Why don't you want it?" 

"Because all that crown is done is destroy generations of my family." Most of Westeros had thought she and Rhaegar would inherit their father's supposed madness as many of the Targaryens of old had, but neither of them did. Rhaella had made a pact with herself the day that Aerys had died that she would  _never_ be like the Targaryens before her. She wouldn't be Aerys, she wouldn't be Jaeherys, she would be herself. And if that won her the crown, then so be it. "I fear for my younger sister, as she has been lead to believe things about our father that are not true. She most likely places too much faith in the Mad King, and her opinion of our father will cloud her judgements of those she's to meet when she arrives. Namely.. Ser Jaime." 

"You believe she'll have him executed when she takes the Throne?" Ada asked. 

"She'd be a fool to do that with me in between her and Jaime." 

Alice smiled and leaned back on her haunches. "You have more resilience and more bravery then any person I have ever met." She commended. "The Lannisters made you live another life for decades and grovel before them as Cersei's servant, and yet that did nothing to sway your loyalty to your House. You took in two girls from the streets and made them your servants. You looked over Sansa Stark not just because you were placed there, but because you  _wanted_ to. You attended the funeral of two Baratheon children even though they were not yours and defied the Faith Militant because of how they humiliated Lady Cersei. You.." She looked Rhaella up and down in awe-struck wonder. "You're the kind of woman that little girls dream of being." 

"Legendary!" Ada exclaimed. "Rhaella Targaryen, the legend of Westeros!" 

***

The raven came a few days later. Things had been mostly quiet, with the occasional travel down the cliffs for a attempt at fishing for their dinner. Rhaella learned quickly that the girls had never experienced the sea before, despite growing up in King's Landing, and made an effort to take them down there at least two to three times a week. The rest of the time was spent training them in combat and weaponry. 

Ada was the one who intercepted the raven when it arrived. Rhaella knew almost immediately that the news contained within the parchment was horrific, given the way the color left her face and her hands trembled as she laid the parchment before her. Rhaella took a deep breath and slowly unrolled, eyes scanning every word that had been scrawled across the page. 

" ** _With the unfortunate passing of King Tommen and the destruction of the Sept of Baelor, we are pleased to reveal that Lady Cersei Lannister is the next to be seated on the Iron Throne in the place of her dearly departed son and his wife, Her Grace Margaery Tyrell."_**

She nearly dropped the parchment at the statement.  _Burn them all._ Cersei was supposed to be having her trial while she and Jaime were in Riverrun, and it seemed to Rhaella that instead of attending it, she kept herself and Tommen in the Keep and obliterated half the city instead. 

"My Lady? Troubling news?" Alice walked into the throne room, concerned etched in her features as she grasped the bag of fish she'd carried from the beach back into the Keep. "My Lady? Ada?" 

**_"_ ** **_You are cordially invited to the coronation of Her Grace, Cersei Lannister, First of Her Name. Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."_ **

Rhaella looked up at the twins. "Cersei killed them." She whispered in disbelief. She'd always known that Cersei would go to extreme measures to get the things she wanted, but Rhaella had never anticipated her fulfilling the wishes of the Mad King and burning half the city of innocents in the process. _Burn them all._ Given the circumstances of the letter, she also believed that the destruction of the Sept of Baelor had killed the rest of Olenna Tyrell's family and destroyed the future of House Tyrell. "She wants me to bend the knee." 

"Are you going to?" 

Blue eyes flickered outward towards the open mouth of Blackwater Bay. It wouldn't be long before Daenerys left Meereen and sailed for Westeros with her dragons and her army, and Cersei wouldn't be able to keep her throne once the Dragon Queen landed upon the shores of her Kingdom. 

"No." She said proudly. "Targaryens don't answer to the likes of Gods or Men. If she wants me to bend the knee.. she's going to have to kill me first."

***

Jaime grimaced over the rim of his wine glass as he sat at the nearest table with Bronn, celebrating their victory over obtaining Riverrun and killing the last of the remaining Tullys, albeit Edmure who had once again been taken prisoner. 

The gold ring around his neck sat heavily upon his chest. 

" _For House Lannister!"_

The chorus of Lannister and Frey soldiers echoed from where they were spread out amongst the tables that occupied the Great Hall. "Hear me roar!" 

_"For House Frey!"_

"We stand together!" 

Walder Frey smiled at his company as he rose his hand that held his wine glass. "May we stand together through the centuries, good friends to the last." He called out. "And when we drive our swords through our enemies hearts, may we speak the words of our alliance, 'The Freys and the Lannisters send their regards.'''

The pounding of fists rang in his ears as he watched the people mill around him, ignorant of the women who kept glancing in his direction. "Even when the woman you want isn't here to ogle you, somehow every woman in Westeros still wants your gold fingers up their-" 

Jaime's eyes snapped over to meet those of his newest right hand man, and about the only person he was willing to socialize with at that moment. "Those two have their eyes on you." He interrupted, motioning to the two serving girls who would glance at them both and then giggle before whispering with each other again. 

"They have their eyes on you." 

"Not my type." 

Bronn snickered. "What, are they not  _blonde_ enough?" He asked. 

He chose not to pay attention to that comment simply because if he continued worrying about Rhaella and where she was, what she was doing, nothing would get done and Cersei would accuse him of betrayal. Rhaella needed to be the last of his worries at that moment with the future of his House at stake. 

Jaime furrowed his brow and put on his best, most charming smile as he motioned the two serving girls over. "Ladies, have you met  _Ser Bronn of the Blackwater?_ " He asked. 

"Maybe I'm not in the mood." Bronn snapped. After casting a sideways glance at the two women, he muttered something under his breath that Jaime couldn't quite catch and disappeared from the hall with the two women in tow. He hoped that was the moment he'd finally get to be alone to process everything that had happened since the Siege, but it seemed that Walder Frey had other ideas. 

"This came together better then expected." The older man said as he sat at Jaimes side. "Your father would be pleased." 

 _Act polite. You need this alliance just as badly as the Crown does. House Lannister doesn't have many allies left._ "I'm sure he would be.'' Jaime replied politely. 

"Edmure is back in a cell. I can't go killing my son-by-law. It wouldn't be right. Would give the family a bad name." His eyes followed the girl who had been filling wine glasses all night, narrowing as he caught her gaze again before she abruptly turned to regard the drunken soldiers surrounding her. "The famous Blackfish killed by foot soldiers, eh? A  _legendary warrior_ , everyone said." 

Jaime paused before he spoke. "Have you done much fighting yourself, Lord Frey?" 

Walder Frey shook his head. "No." He said. "I'm a bit old for all of that." 

"I mean back in your day." 

"The purpose of fighting is defeating your enemies. I defeated mine." Memories of the news that the Red Wedding had occurred flashed behind Jaime's eyelids. Particularly how devastated Brienne and Rhaella had been about Catelyn Stark. "Riverrun was owned by House Tully for a thousand years before we defeated them, and now it's mine. What do you call that? Victory." 

"Oh yes. You're a  _great_ conqueror." Jaime replied, sarcasm dripping from his words. 

Walder sat his cup on the table and shook his head. "Go on, mock me boy. Do you think I mind? The Tullys mocked me for years. The Starks mocked me. And where are they now?"  _Most of them are dead, but not all of them._ "You talk about war as if you're an expert, but the one battle I remember you fighting? You were captured by Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. That doesn't matter. Here we are now, two Kingslayers!" Jaime set his jaw so tightly that the muscle ticked against the bone, causing a rather uncomfortable ache to bloom in his skull. "We know what it's like to have them grovel to our faces and snigger behind our backs. We don't mind, do we? Fear is a marvelous thing." 

Jaime found he was incredibly tired of being reduced to  _The Kingslayer._ Rhaella had shown him he was more then that. He was a Lannister, and it was about time that the docile housecat he was becoming evolved into the ferocious lion that had been caged for far too long. 

"They don't fear the Freys, though." Jaime said calmly. "They fear the Lannisters. We gave you The Riverlands to  _hold_ The Riverlands. If we have to ride North to take them back for you every time you lose them, then  _why_ do we need you?" 

He left a gaping Walder Frey at an empty table while the celebration continued. 

***

Daenerys pondered what Jorah had told her before she made him part her side at the Dosh Khaleen. 

" _When you arrive in Westeros, you're going to be so far from alone that you'll forget what loneliness feels like. You have Tyrion, Missandei, Greyworm.. your army and your dragons." His eyes met hers for a moment, and she didn't doubt in that moment the depth of his love for her. "And a sister who has waited years to meet you."_

She wondered if Jorah missed Rhaella as much as he would miss her. They hadn't seen each other since Rhaella was a young woman, and Jorah didn't know the woman she'd become since his exile, but he had no doubt that she was a woman that Daenerys would look up to and seek counsel from. 

"Your ships are nearly ready." Daario Naharis drew her from her trance as he entered her chambers. "I saw them painting the sails." He lifted the decanter and poured himself a glass of wine. "I'm curious to see how the Dothraki will do on the poisoned water." 

"You're not coming with us." 

He seemed taken aback by her answer. "New strategy?" He asked. "Do you want the Second Sons to attack from the West Coast? If we take Casterly Rock, the Lannisters will have nowhere to run whenever you and your sister take King's Landing together." 

"You're not going to Westeros." Daenerys replied. "You're staying here with the Second Sons. There is  _finally_ peace in Meereen. You will keep the peace while the people choose their own leaders." 

"Screw Meereen." He spat. "And screw the people. I am here for  _you."_

She was reminded of the promise he'd made to her. "You promised me." She said. "My sword is yours, my life is yours. This is my command." Daenerys watched the disbelief flicker through his expression before she continued. "If I'm going to rule in Westeros, I'm going to have to make alliances. One of which will be with my sister when I make her the official Princess of Dragonstone. The others... The best way to make alliances is through marriage." 

"Who are marrying this time?" 

"I don't know." That was the truth. Daenerys  _didn't_ know what would happen whenever she hit the shores of Westeros, or what would await her within the ancestral home of her House. The only thing that was certain was what Rhaella was going to be there waiting for her. "Maybe no one." 

"You need to lure the other Noble Houses to the table." Daario said. "Are you a Queen or fish bait?" 

"I  _can't_ bring a lover to Westeros." She stated firmly. 

"A King wouldn't think twice about it!" 

"So that's what you want. To be my mistress?" 

"I don't care what perfumed aristocrat sits beside you in the throne room." Daario said. "I don't want a crown. I want you." Daenerys blinked away the haze blurring her vision of this man she'd come to love as he closed the gap between them and knelt in front of her. "I love you and I make you happy. You know I do. Bring me with you. Let me fight for you." 

Every fiber of her being wanted to take him with her. He was the only thing that had given her genuine happiness in her time as ruler of Meereen. 

"I can't." 

But now was not the time to think about her own desires. 

"The Dwarf told you to do this." He muttered under his breath. 

"No one tells me to do anything." Daenerys said. 

"The little fellow, I can't argue with his logic. I would be no use to you over there." 

"Don't get angry." 

Daario shook his head. "I'm not  _angry._ " He replied. "I'm full of self-pity. Who comes after you? Who can ever follow Daenerys Stormborn, The Mother of Dragons?" 

"A great number of women I imagine." Daenerys stood to her feet and met his eyes. There was so much desperation, so much pleading looking back at her, that she knew it would be harder to walk out of that room and away from him than originally anticipated. "There will be orders left for you regarding the welfare of Meereen and the Bay of Dragons." 

He laughed quietly. "Bay of Dragons?" 

"Well, we can't call it Slaver's Bay anymore, can we?" 

Daario nodded before he lifted his wine glass to his lips. "You'll get that throne you want so badly." He said. "I'm sure of it. I hope it and the sister you've never met bring you happiness. It's what you deserve more then anything else." He sat the empty glass on the table. "I pity the Lords of Westeros. Between them and your sister, no one has any idea what is coming for them." 

She managed a weak smile in return. It was all she could muster. "Farewell, Daario Naharis." 

***

Tyrion was waiting for Daenerys at the bottom of the pyramid when she finally emerged. 

"How did he take it?" He called out as she descended the steps. 

"No tears." 

The youngest Lannister hung his head. "I know that was hard for you. You're not the first Targaryen I've seen give up a chance at love." He replied. "You turned away a man who truly loves you because he would've been a liability in the Seven Kingdoms. That's the kind of self-sacrifice that makes for a good ruler." 

"You said I share this trait with Rhaella?" Daenerys asked. She'd heard a multitude of stories about Rhaegar and her older sister from both Barristan and Jorah when they'd first arrived to the city, but Tyrion had provided her with so much information that she felt as if she already knew Rhaella on a deeper, much more intimate level. 

"Your sister is one of the most self-sacrificing people I've ever met." Tyrion said. "I've seen her put everyone else before herself almost our entire life. If she wanted the crown, I believe she'd have made a great ruler.'' 

"It's not any consolation, but it good for me to know what similarities I share with my sister." Viserys had been telling her stories about Rhaella before Jorah and Tyrion, before Drogo and her deceased son and the Dothraki and Unsullied. Before she'd begun working to free the world from tyrants, Daenerys Targaryen imagined her sister in a red and gold gown at a grand feast. She was who all the eyes fell upon, the one all the people loved, the one that men wanted to be with. Viserys spoke nothing but praises about her and Rhaegar. She only hoped to experience the same thing. 

"I suppose it's really not. I'm terrible at consoling." 

"Yes, you really are." Daenerys sat down beside Tyrion and clasped her hands together, bracing her elbows against her knees. 

"Alright." Tyrion stated. "How about the fact that this is all actually happening? You're going to meet your sister, arrive in Westeros, and get the crown you've desired for most of your life. You have your armies, your ships, and your dragons. Everything you've ever wanted since you were old enough to want anything.. It's all yours for the taking. Are you afraid?" Without replying, Daenerys gave a short nod and allowed her gaze to fall to the ground. "Good, you're in the great game now. The great game is terrifying.   The only people who aren't afraid of failure are mad men like your father." 

"Do you know what frightens me?" Daenerys asked. "I said farewell to a man who loves me. A man I thought I cared for.. and I felt nothing. I'm just impatient to get on with it." 

"He wasn't the first to love you." Tyrion said as she stood to her feet. "And he won't be the last." 

"Well, you've completely failed to console me." 

"For what it's worth, I've been a cynic for as long as I can remember. Everyone's always telling me to believe in things. Family, Gods, Kings, myself. It was often tempting until I saw where belief got people. So I said no thank you to belief, and yet.. here I am." He sat his wine glass down and stood to meet her gaze. "I  _believe_ in you. I know for a fact that Rhaella believes in you too. It's embarrassing really, believing in  _two_ Targaryens. I'd swear you my sword, but I don't actually own one. That's probably what you'll get from her instead of me." 

Daenerys stifled laughter. "It's your counsel I need." She said. 

"It's yours. Now and always." 

"Good." She reached into the gap of the fabric in her dress and produced a pin that looked remarkably similar to the Hand of the King pin that so many people before him wore in Westeros. "I had something made for you. I'm not entirely sure if it's right.." She slipped the sharp end into Tyrion's jerkin and stepped back to admire it. 

"Tyrion Lannister, I name you Hand of the Queen." 

***

_I should wear the armor._

Cersei hiked up her gown as she ascended the steps to stand in front of the Iron Throne. The crowds spread out before her, cowering in fear of their newest Queen as Qyburn held her crown in his hands. "I now proclaim Cersei of House Lannister, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms." 

She paid no attention to Jaime as the crown was placed on her head and she sat in her seat. Jaime had seen the plumes of smoke rising from where the Sept once stood whenever the Lannister army had arrived outside of King's Landing, and he had automatically assumed the worst once he heard about Cersei taking the throne. No one had told him about what happened to Tommen. 

"Long May She Reign!" 

_Long May She Reign._

Jaime thought of what Rhaella had said in regards to the crown weighing Tommen down, and how it would be the end of him. Part of him wondered if that had been Cersei's intention whenever he'd been placed in charge of Westeros. Waiting until the final moments where she pulled her most lethal card and obliterated half the city, the very thing he'd prevented several decades beforehand, thus killing Margaery in the process. That must've been the cause of what had happened to Tommen. Grief. 

Rhaella had known that the weight of the crown would be the end of Tommen. 

And as he stood over the crowds that had gathered for Cersei's coronation, Jaime wondered if that same crown would be the end of his sister too. 

 


	27. The Future

The raven from Tyrion arrived a day after the letter from Qyburn did. 

**_Dearest Rhaella, if you've received this, we are only days out from our arrival at Dragonstone. I imagine that's where you fled to when you were finally forced to leave that wretched city and my equally wretched brother.. and if you're reading this, I want you to know that your sister is desperately excited to meet you._ **

**_We bring an army, three dragons, and familiar along with new faces. I believe in Daenerys, and Daenerys believes in you. The next dynasty will come at the hands of the last Targaryens._ **

**_Regards, Tyrion_ **

She wrote to him the same day and had Ada send it out on their only raven, watching as the bird departed from the parapet. Her mind pondered the words from the raven they'd received from Cersei, wondering if Jaime's devotion to his sister would be her undoing and the cause of her death. No one had even tried to approach the island since she'd been here. Jaime was the only one beside the twins who knew where she was, and Cersei would practically beg to know her location so that she could do what Tommen couldn't. She'd chosen Daenerys, and Jaime had chosen Cersei. It seemed that no matter what universe, what circumstances, Jaime would  _always_ choose Cersei. 

_We're two halves of one whole. We came into this world together.. We'll leave together._

She'd worked for years to try and give Jaime the assurance he so desperately craved that told him he was his own person  _outside_ of Cersei. That she was not him, and he was not her, and he had the ability to love in a way that wasn't destructive or dangerous. Jaime had been looking for his self worth for years, he'd been looking for his purpose, and being with Cersei had given him one. The only problem with that was after he realized how they felt about one another, his newfound predicament was choosing  _duty_ or  _love._

Rhaella loved both  _him_ and herself enough to leave that note at their camp and run towards her sister, towards her future. Despite all her efforts to show Jaime the goodness and honor he so obviously had, he'd still run back to Cersei. She'd loved him, and she'd cherished him, but Jaime had run back to what was familiar and away from her. Maybe it was better that way. At least for right now. 

Here's the truth. You can't save everyone, but you can love them. You can love them right where they're at, and you can hope..  _pray.._ that it's enough. 

***

No matter what Jaime says or insinuates about their current situation, he cannot succeed in getting Cersei to talk about what happened with Tommen. According to the servants around the castle, the former boy-king of Westeros had been found in a pool of his own blood, his body a mangled mess of broken bones and his face nearly unrecognizable. The people had wept at his loss. 

His sister didn't shed a tear. 

He didn't hear most of what she said, but he did remember one part:  _He betrayed us._ How could she be so delusional as to believe that their son's suicide was a betrayal to her sitting on the same throne that had been the end of his son? Tommen had been like Myrcella, compassionate and kind until his last, and it had been his mother's disregard of his own emotions and feelings about the people and the woman he called his wife that had forced him out that window. 

Tommen had told him once he always wanted to see the view from the sky. 

Jaime believed he did, in those final moments before he collided with a very bleak, dark world. He hoped Tommen had a split second of joy before it was taken from him. 

Cersei asked where Rhaella disappeared to and why he let her get away to begin with. He didn't answer, just fabricated a story about how she'd fled the camp at the end of the siege with no indication of where she'd be going. As far as Cersei and Rhaella were concerned, Jaime wanted the two women to remain as far away from each other as possible. She was safer that way.

" _Think about what I've told you about Cersei. Think of all you know about this sister you so claim to love. In the time I've known you, Cersei has done nothing but manipulate you and your emotions for her own personal gain. I have watched the way that_ _she’s hurt you. Who shunned you when you lost your hand? She did. Who remained bitter and resentful when you hid me away from the world to save House Targaryen from certain demise? She did. Despite what you believe, Jaime... You are a better man then Cersei will ever believe you to be. I've seen your honor, I know of your honorable act to save King's Landing, and the way that broken, bleeding heart of yours care for people you love. Don't let her change the very essence of what makes you who you are."_

Even when she wasn't there, Rhaella's words still haunted him like the ghosts that haunted Jenny of Oldstones. 

The next predicament to be met was Euron Greyjoy in the throne room. Cersei claimed that the newly appointed King of The Iron Islands was their best chance at being able to keep control of the sea while the Lannisters kept control of King's Landing and the southern most parts of Westeros, but Jaime had  _seen_ the reputation of the Greyjoys and believed in his heart of hearts that making them their allies would be a disaster when their newest King cared nothing of no one but himself and whoever he bedded that week. 

His newest bedding, or so he claimed, was to be Cersei. 

Jaime paid no mind to his endless japes. He'd spent so much of his life learning how to ignore other people's scrutiny, the way they groveled when he was looking at them and whispered his greatest sins behind his back. It had been Brienne and Rhaella to teach him about his own self-worth, how the opinions of the many didn't matter compared to the opinions of the few, the ones closest to his heart. Brienne. Rhaella. Cer-

No.  _No._ He needed to stop caring what his sister thought of him. 

"In my experience, the best way to a woman's heart is with a gift. If I was able, I'd bring you a half dead Targaryen princess and lay her at your feet." Jaime froze, his eyes snapping over to Euron who was staring at him with such a pleasurable, amused gaze. "Unfortunately, nobody in this country seems to know where Rhaella Targaryen is! How ironic, considering she was last seen with  _your_ brother before she fled from the siege at the Twins. What a shame. I'm sure  _that_ would earn your trust quickly. But until I find that gift for you, I will not return to King's Landing." 

When Jaime went to his chambers that night, he prayed for the first time in what felt like centuries. 

***

Daenerys' breath caught as the shape of Dragonstone Keep loomed in the distance. It had been a long journey to get here, but now that she was  _here,_ it was almost impossible to believe that it was  _real._ Her advisors and friends sat in the boat behind her as the Unsullied rowed closer and closer to shore, her dragons roar in the distance shattering the roll of the waves against the belly of the boat. 

Her brow furrowed when she caught sight of two blonde girls not much younger then she was lugging a large assorted net of fish inland after what looked to be a successful fishing excursion. "Tyrion.'' Daenerys said to her Hand. "I thought you said no one was here." Tyrion peered around the Dragon Queen and grimaced as the two girls collapsed in the sand side by side, their laughter echoing in the air as their dinner lay at their feet. 

"I may have forgotten to mention that someone is currently residing within the Keep." He replied. "That someone would be your sister. The girls.. I'm not sure who they are." 

Alice's head snapped up at the sound of voices, and she dragged Ada to her feet as Dany's boat was pulled inland and the people within stepped onto Westerosi sands. Ada tugged on the sleeve of her sisters tunic as she recognized the form of three  _massive_ dragons following the armada of ships, and the bright silver hair of who they assumed to be Daenerys Targaryen as she stepped out of the boat with a _very_ short man wearing a Hand of the Queen pin on his jerkin.

"Your-Your Grace!" The sisters bowed low to the ground as they approached Daenerys, who merely smiled at them in response. "Please forgive us, I promise we're not intruders here, we're the servants of your eldest sister Rhaella. She's inside waiting for you!" Dany's eyes lit up at the mention of Rhaella, but she was more curious to feel the sand between her fingers before she and her counsel ascended the cliffs to the Keep. "We can take you to the Keep, if you so wish. My name is Alice." Alice extended her hand towards her twin. "And this is Ada." 

"Ah, I remember you both." Tyrion remarked as the girls' eyes snapped over to him. ''Rhaella found you on the Street of Steel begging for food and begged my father to let her take you in as her servants." 

"Yes. Yes, she did." Ada replied. The small crowd that stood on the shorelines watched as the future Queen of Westeros bent down, face hidden from their view, to press her hand into the damp sand. It seemed to Alice that this was merely a way to recognize the fact that she'd made it here, and that her future resided just within the walls of her ancestral home, her place of birth. 

Daenerys stood to her feet and dusted her hand on the fabric of her dress. 

"Your Grace," Bright blue eyes followed the twins as they motioned up the cliffs. "Welcome home. Your future awaits you." 

***

_High in the Halls of the Kings who are gone_

_Jenny did dance with her ghosts_

_The ones she had lost, and the ones she had found_

_And the ones who had loved her the most_

Tyrion beamed at the familiar, alluring voice that echoed against the walls of Dragonstone Keep as he followed Daenerys into the main Throne Room. The Unsullied stood at attention at the presence of an unfamiliar face, but Daenerys hand snapped upward for them to stand down as she stepped deeper into the room. It was smaller then the other throne rooms she'd seen and mostly vacant, albeit the woman who stood in front of the throne. 

_The ones who'd been gone for so very long_

_She couldn't remember their names_

_They spun her around on the damp old stones_

_Spun away all her sorrow and pain_

She had hair much shorter then her own, fashioned in a loose crown braid that accentuated the soft shape of her face. Her gown was deep red and black, cut low at the chest with sleeves that flared out just above the wrists with an accompanying black choker that sat high upon her collarbone. She looked every bit the part of a high-born woman from House Targaryen.

That didn't even begin to cover the dagger at her hip with the dragon hilt and ruby eyes. 

"I never thought I'd miss the voice of one person so dearly." Tyrion said, causing Rhaella to freeze as she slowly turned around to face the newcomers. "Sweet, sweet Princess Targaryen." He breathed a sigh of relief. "I missed you." 

Astonished blue eyes swept over the form of her sister as Daenerys stepped into the light. Nevermind the fact she was standing in her place of birth built by Aegon the Conqueror. Her entire life had been story after story about Rhaegar and Rhaella, the beloved Prince and Princess of Westeros. How her sister was one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms and was never given the opportunity to be cherished by a husband because of her infertility. How Rhaegar had allowed love to cloud his duty and a war was started over Lyanna Stark. Story after story after story. 

When their eyes met, Daenerys realized it was no longer a dream. It was real,  _she_ was real, and the future was just about to begin. 

"I've heard all about you." When the Unsullied stepped forward, Rhaella snapped something in High Valyrian and it took every ounce of her self control to not gape at how  _fluent_ she was in a dead language. "Daenerys Stormborn, First of Her Name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons. Do I really have to go through all your titles too? That's too much work for me." 

"No," She replied. "As long as you tell me all of yours. I'm such it's much less rigorous." 

Rhaella rubbed her hands together and smiled. "We can do titles later. Before I greet you like a Queen should be greeted," She stepped away from the throne and slowly crossed the room to approach Missandei and Greyworm. "Tell me who your friends are, besides the Lannister. I don't always have the opportunity to practice my High Valryian." 

"This is Missandei, my most trusted friend. She was one of the slaves I purchased and easily became one of my most trusted counsel." Daenerys said. "She speaks many, many languages. The man beside her is Greyworm, the Captain of my Unsullied. I'm sure you already know Lord Varys, and my Hand.. Tyrion Lannister." 

Rhaella's eyes widened. "Tyrion is your  _Hand?"_

The youngest Lannister snorted. "Don't act so surprised, Rhaella." 

Rhaella turned her attention to the two strangers and said, "Issa iā pleasure naejot rhaenagon ao.  Nyke jurnegon naejot naejot hearing skoros ao contribute naejot ñuha mandia's ondor ōregon." Missandei grinned proudly and murmured her own greeting to the elder Targaryen before slipping away with Greyworm, who also greeted her in a stoic manner she was not used to. 

The small group was lead to the map room after Rhaella urged the sisters into the kitchens to begin preparing their evening meal. Rhaella had been working to remove every essence of Stannis Baratheon from the Keep since she'd arrived, but the only place she had not bothered entering was the map room. She was skilled in many things, but strategy was not one of them. 

She watched as Daenerys crossed the room, dragging her fingers over the valleys and mountains that lined the map table and signified specific occupied parts of Westeros. Rhaella stood on the southern end, hands wrapped around a carved lion, as the two sisters eyed one another. Tyrion had only ever seen so much similarity in Jaime and Cersei, and that alone had made them a formidable foe in the inevitable War of the Two Queens. 

The future was coming at the hands of two dragons who were more then ready for the world to remember who they were. 

"Shall we begin?" 

<><><><><><><<><><><><>

_Valryian words:_

_"It is a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to hearing what you have to contribute to my sister's reign."_


	28. The Dragons Are Home

7x02-7x04 will be  _lengthy_ because most of what happens in the episode(s) are relevant to this plot, so bear with me because it'll involve people you don't entirely care about. Happy reading!

<><><><><><>

It had been a  _long_ time since she'd seen a storm like the one that was currently brewing outside of Dragonstone. Decades, even. The last time she'd heard rain fall that hard was the same night Daenerys had come into the world within the halls of this very keep and changed the world forever. 

It also seemed that Tyrion and Varys were thinking the same thing she was. 

"On a night like this, you came into the world." 

"I remember that storm." Varys said lowly. "The dogs in King's Landing howled all through the night." Narrowed eyes flickered between the elder Targaryen and the youngest Lannister as they shared a knowing look. "I imagine you two were up to  _some_ type of shenanigans." 

"I remember darkness." Rhaella replied as she ran a finger over the carved dragons head at the end of Keeper. She wasn't about to confess to Daenerys that she was actually hiding in her new chambers with a head full of chopped Stark colored hair thanks to Jaime Lannister. "And wine.  _Alot_ of wine." She pointed the blade at Tyrion who guffawed in response. "I wasn't any older then.. what, ten-and-six? I think you got me drunk. Someone did." 

Daenerys turned away from the archway to regard the people who stood spread in the maproom behind her. "I wish I could remember it." She said. "I always thought this would be a homecoming. This doesn't feel like home." 

"Home isn't a place, dear sister." Blue eyes that mirrored her own snapped over to meet Rhaellas as she propped her feet up on the bench she was occupying. "You think my home has been King's Landing for the last forty some years of my existence? I  _despise_ that place. It was ruined for me the same day Aerys died. Do you really think I call that place home just because I grew up there? No. Home is a people." She gestured between them both. "I haven't felt at home in years. This is the most like home I've felt since before.." 

_Rhaegar._

The two sisters shared a knowing glance before turning their eyes back to the map table. There was quite a bit of untold secrets that needed to be said when so many prying eyes and ears were not around. "We won't stay on Dragonstone for long." Tyrion reassured. 

"Good." She gazed upon the pieces scattered across the table. "There's not so many lions." 

Varys shook his head. "Cersei controls fewer then half of the Seven Kingdoms." He said. "The Lords of Westeros despise her. Even before your arrival, they plotted against her." 

"They cry out for their true Queen. They drink secret toasts to my health." Daenerys wrung her hands against her abdomen as she walked around the table to stand beside Rhaella, who was very intently studying the areas around Casterly Rock and King's Landing. "People used to tell my brother that sort of thing and he was stupid enough to believe them." She lifted the largest piece, a finely carved dragon, and ran her fingers over the spine. "If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already." 

"Viserys was never the brightest of our siblings." 

Daenerys snorted as Rhaella nudged her hip. "You act as if I don't already know this, sister." 

"Conquering Westeros would be easy for you." Tyrion said. "But you are not here to be Queen of the Ashes. We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse. If the Great Houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won. Especially now that you've allied with your elder sister who is widely known and beloved by many of the people, that will double our chances. That doesn't begin to mention the Tyrell army and the Dornish on our side, which means we have powerful allies in the South."

Her lips turned upward in a faint smile. "I never properly thanked you for that." Daenerys directed at Varys, who tucked his hands deeper into the sleeves of his tunic. 

"They joined our side because they believe in  _you._ " He said firmly. "When I mentioned Lady Rhaella's role to Olenna Tyrell, she leapt at the opportunity. Apparently your sister and the Queen of Thorns have quite an.. interesting kinship, if you will." 

Daenerys made a mental note to ask about her sister's relationship with her enemies and allies before she thought of her next question, one that would not have the most assuring of answers. "You served my father, didn't you?" She asked. 

"I did, Your Grace." 

"And you served the man who overthrew him?" 

_Jaime walked towards Brienne, half a corpse and half a god, a woven story of desperation and a decades-kept secret threatening to spill off his tongue. She could do nothing but watch as he poured his soul into the shallow waters of the baths at Harrenhal._

Even on opposite sides of the war, Rhaella couldn't bring herself to betray Jaime's real, justified reason for slaughtering their father at the foot of the Iron Throne. With the opinion Daenerys obviously held of all Lannisters albeit the one she had made her Hand, the last thing she needed to confess was the nature of her relationship with the very man who'd murdered Aerys. 

"I had to make a choice, Your Grace." Varys said. "Serve Robert Baratheon or face the headman's axe." 

"But you didn't serve him long." Daenerys remarked. "You turned against him." 

"Robert was an improvement on your father, to be sure. There have been few rulers in history who have been as cruel as the Mad King." Rhaella thought of how Aerys, along with Cersei, had manipulated Jaime into taking the White and used his naivety to his benefit. How Rhaegar had left a boy of  _ten-and-seven_ to guard the city  _and_ The Red Keep while the rest of the Kingsguard fought on the Trident. She thought of Jaime standing outside her parents chambers while her father raped her mother, and how he'd protected her by not telling her about her mother's screams. "Robert was neither mad nor cruel. He just simply had no interest in being King." 

"So you took it upon yourself to find a better one." 

Rhaella felt the tension thicken in the room and a uneasy feeling settle in her stomach. Sensing her obvious discomfort, Tyrion decided to speak up to break the inevitable silence that would have followed. "Your Grace, when I was ready to drink myself into a small coffin, Lord Varys told me about a Queen in the East-" 

"Before I came to power, you favored my brother." Daenerys snapped. "All your spies, your little birds. Did they tell you that Viserys was cruel, stupid and weak? Would those qualities have made for a good king, in your line of experience?" 

"Until your marriage to Khal Drogo, Your Grace, I knew nothing about you. Save your existence, you were said to be beautiful. Given that I knew your sister and the fact that she was safely hidden from the world by the Lannisters, I imagine it was a family trait." 

''So you and your friends sold me like a prized horse to the Dothraki-" 

"Which you turned to your advantage!" Varys exclaimed. 

"Who gave the order to kill me?" 

Varys, Rhaella and Tyrion exchanged a glance. "King Robert." 

"While I'm curious to know why and how Robert didn't do the same for Rhaella, I want to know.. who sent word to Essos to murder Daenerys Targaryen?" 

"I did what had to be done." 

" _To keep yourself alive."_

"Lord Varys has proven himself a loyal servant." Tyrion interjected. Rhaella pushed her hair away from her face and turned away from the altercation to watch the lightning strike over the Blackwater, the crash of the waves on the shore roaring in her ears just loudly enough to drown out the argument behind her. It was a welcome enough distraction. 

Daenerys didn't catch her attention again until something else drew them from the room, and she started  speaking in Valryian as her counsel retreated to the Throne Room. ''Rhaella," Daenerys called out. She turned away from the storm and feigned a smile. "Gōntan ao disappear va nyke?" 

She shook her head. "Daor.  Konīr iksis olvie geptot unsaid rȳ īlva, olvie truth geptot naejot sagon ivestretan.  Issa sȳrje naejot umbagon ēva īlon're mērī gō nyke ivestragon ao skoros ao jaelagon naejot gīmigon." 

(1: "Did you disappear on me?) 

(2: "No. There is much left unsaid between us, much truth left to be told. It is best to wait until we're alone before I tell you what you wish to know.")

***

Melisandre was just as beautiful as the rumors whispered her to be. Rhaella listened intently to their conversation as they spoke to one another until Daenerys asked her what was expected of her. That was when her eyes came over to Rhaella and looked to her instead of her sister. 

"The Long Night is coming." She said darkly. "And the Prince Who Was Promised will bring the dawn." 

"The Prince Who Was Promised will bring the dawn." Daenerys replied. "I'm afraid I'm not a prince." 

Missandei cleared her throat. "Your Grace, forgive me but your translation is not quite accurate. That noun actually has no gender in High Valryian. The proper translation for that prophecy would be, ' _T_ _he Prince or Princess who was promised will bring the dawn.'''_

 _"_ It doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it?" 

"No, but I like it better." Daenerys said. "And you believe this prophecy refers to me?" 

Based off of the look Melisandre was giving her, Rhaella believed it to be either her  _or_ Daenerys. "Prophecies are dangerous things. Your sister knows, the two of you were prophesied over long before your birth. I believe you  _both_ have a role to play, as does another. The King in the North." 

Rhaellas eyes widened. "Jon Snow?" She asked. "Are you serious?" She'd never had the pleasure of meeting the illegitimate son of Ned Stark, but Arya and Sansa had told her enough about him, Bran and Rickon whenever they'd first arrived to King's Landing. It felt like centuries ago. 

"And why do you think that the Lord of Light singled out this Jon Snow, aside from the visions that you've seen in the flames?" Varys asked. 

"As Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, he allowed the Wildlings south of the Wall to protect them from great danger. As the King in the North, he has united those wildlings with the Northern Houses so together they may face their common enemy." 

Daenerys expression went hard. "He sounds like quite a man." 

"Summon Jon Snow." Melisandre said. "Let him stand before you and tell you of the things that have happened to him. The things that he's seen with his own eyes." 

Tyrion stood at Rhaellas hip as he approached Daenerys. "I can't speak to prophecies or visions in the flames, but I like Jon Snow." he said. "I trusted him. I'm an excellent judge of character. If he does rule the North, he'd made a valuable ally. The Lannisters executed his father and conspired to murder his brother, Jon Snow has even more reason to hate Cersei then you do." 

"Very well. Send a raven North, and tell Jon Snow that his Queen invites him to come to Dragonstone." She paused. "And bend the knee." 

Before Rhaella could follow her sister out of the room, Melisandre called her name and turned her attention back around to the lingering Red Priestess. "Eman thought olvie nūmāzma telling ao bisa, dārilaros.  Aōha mandia ēza zirȳla own role naejot tymagon, yn iksā naejot sagon se promised salvation syt mirre hen Vesteros. Gaomagon daor ivestragī aōha conflict hen jorrāelagon versus aōha gaomilaksir gaomagon ao hen bona." She said lowly, careful to not let anyone else hear, before releasing Rhaella's wrist and disappearing through the front doors of the Keep. 

(3: "I have thought much about telling you this, Princess. Your sister has her own role to play, but you are to be the promised salvation for all of Westeros. Do not let your conflict of love versus your duty keep you from that.")

*** 

"If the Mad Kings daughters take the Iron Throne, they will destroy the realm as we know it." Jaime swallowed the bile in his throat, desperate to hide his disgust as Cersei curled inward and relaxed against the Iron Throne.  _I can't believe I'm referring to Rhaella as the enemy. I never thought I'd see the day._ "Some of you are bannerman of House Tyrell, but House Tyrell is in open rebellion against the crown. With their help, The Mad Kings youngest daughter has ferried an army of savages to our shores. His eldest daughter, Rhaella Targaryen, assists The Dragon Queen in her conquest for our city and our country. These soldiers are the mindless Unsullied who will destroy your castles and your holdfasts. The Dothraki heathens who will burn your villages to the ground, rape and enslave your women, and butcher your children without a second thought. This is how Olenna Tyrell rewards centuries of service and loyalty." 

"You all remember the Mad King. You remember the horrors he inflicted upon his people, and his youngest daughter is no different. In Essos, her brutality is legendary. She crucified hundreds of noblemen in Slaver's Bay and when she grew bored of that, she fed them to her dragons. It is my sworn duty to protect the people, and I _will_ , but I need your help. We must stand together, all of us, if we hope to stop her." 

Jaime thought about all the times that Rhaella had confessed to him that she would  _never_ resort to the measures that so many of the Targaryens of Old had taken. Daenerys' brutality was a trademark of her own making, not something her elder sister would take into her own hands and craft into a spectacle for the world to see.  _I will not be like those before me._

He remembered the times she'd saved Tyrion, and how she'd tended to him after the Bloody Mummers. How friendly and vulnerable she'd come to be with Brienne, and how she treated his children in the way she'd treat her own. Softness was Rhaella Targaryens best quality. Brutality was not her strength. 

"She has  _three_ fully grown dragons, Your Grace. The same amount as Aegon when he conquered the Seven Kingdoms." Randyll Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill, spoke as he stepped out from beside his son. "Her sister, might I add, can  _ride_ one of those dragons. Which means _two_ of the three will be ridden by their riders. How do you propose to tackle that issue?" 

Cersei turned her eyes to Qyburn. 

"We are currently at work on a solution, My Lord.'' He said. 

When the court departed, Jaime fled from the throne room and trailed after the Tarlys. "Lord Tarly!" He called out. Randyll turned around and nodded to Jaime as Dickon followed suit. 

"Ser Jaime." He greeted. "I believe you know my son." 

"Ser Jaime."

Jaime extended his hand. "Rickon, isn't it?" He asked.

"Dickon."

"Thank you for coming." Jaime said. "The Lords of the Reach look to you more for guidance now then ever. They might not have come if you hadn't." 

_Was this really what they'd come to? Calling on the minor Noble houses to fuel Cersei's war effort for the War of The Two Queens?_

"If my Queen summons me, I answer the call." Randyll replied. His expression suddenly grew grim. "And I've heard what she does to those who defy her." 

Unsure of how to reply, Jaime motioned outward to the hall that lead away from the throne room where they'd be given a bit more privacy. "Do you ride for Horn Hill today?" 

"I have an army to mobilize. It won't be long before the fighting starts." 

It also wouldn't be long before he met the Targaryen sisters across a scorched battlefield. 

"And which side will you be fighting for? You were the only one to defeat Robert Baratheon in battle, not even Rhaegar Targaryen-" 

"It's a long ride to the Reach, Ser Jaime." Lord Tarly interjected. Jaime ground his teeth together frustratedly. The war on the horizon made him long for the days of the Whispering Wood and the cage that Catelyn and Robb Stark had left him to rot in for a year. Things were.. simpler then.  "How may I serve?" 

"I want you to be my ranking general for the wars to come. I want you to swear allegiance to Cersei, and I want you to help me destroy her enemies." He paused as they turned to one another. " _All_ of her enemies." Because that's what they were doing, securing the country for a peaceful reign that his sister would sit at the head of. Jaime would do whatever it took to get her there. 

Whatever it takes. Even if that meant facing Rhaella, and-  _no._ He wouldn't kill her. He  _couldn't._ Widow's Wail would weigh heavily in his hand and his eyes would sting with the smoke that blurred his vision, and she'd meet him halfway with Blackfyre and stab him in the back the same way he did her father. 

"Including Olenna Tyrell. I'm-I'm a Tarly. That name  _means_ something. We're not oathbreakers, we're not schemers, we don't stab our rivals in the back or cut their throats at weddings." Jaime narrows his eyes at the mention of the Red Wedding, another thing he was at fault for just because his last name was Lannister. "I swore an oath to House Tyrell." 

"You also swore an oath to the crown." Jaime replied lowly.

"I've known Olenna since I was a child." 

"She was a great woman once. Now she's broken, she wants revenge so badly that she brought the Dothraki to our shores!" Jaime imagined that if Rhaella were standing in front of him, she'd beat him senseless for that remark. He knew why Olenna wanted revenge. It was for the senseless act of murder in blowing up half the city inside the Sept of Baelor. ''The Dothraki in Westeros for the first time in history." When Randyll's eyes wouldn't mean his own, Jaime continued speaking in a softer tone. "I know you don't like my sister, but you have to make a choice. Do you fight with us, or with the foreign savages and eunuchs?" Realization crossed through his eyes. "When the war is won, the Queen will need a new Warden of the South. I can think of no-one better." 

***

When he sat alone in that quarantine, Jorah Mormont thought of his days in Westeros. The scarce amount of times before his exile that Queen Rhaella had brought her daughter and son further North despite the fact her husband did not care for his father. The Mormonts had fought against the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, and yet here he stood.. the dying sworn-sword of a Queen. 

When he was introduced to Samwell Tarly and his prognosis of six months until his mental deterioration was  _finally_ confirmed, he thought of the stories he'd told Daenerys about her sister when she'd still been the Khaleesi of Khal Drogo. Jorah had so little to give her, but she drank every word. 

He thought of outside the Dosh Khaleen, when she urged him to find the cure for his greyscale and assured him she  _and_ Rhaella were waiting. 

Samwell burst into his room near the middle of the night in the midst of writing his goodbye letter to Daenerys and insisted that he'd be the one to cure Jorah of his greyscale. The hopeful part of him that had been reduced to embers, barely viable, wanted to believe the younger man. The rational part of him said there was no possible way this would work. 

"If you don't mind, bite down hard on this." He handed Jorah a folded leather strap. "No one knows I'm in here and if they hear you screaming, then we're both finished." 

His uncertainty has him asking, "Have you ever done this before?"

A moment passed before Sam replied, "No. No one else will try it, but I'm the best chance you've got." He guided Jorah to the nearest chair and gently pushed him into it. "I'm going to have to remove the entire upper layer of infected tissue and then apply medicinal ointment." 

Jorah felt his chest stutter as his breathing labored. It took all his available strength to not spit the strap out and scream at the top of his lungs because  _Seven Hells,_ what had he done to deserve  _this?_

"Sh, SH!" Sam hissed. "Again, I'm sorry.. but please try not to scream." 

When Sam began peeling away the greyscale with ease, Jorah saw Daenerys and Rhaella in front of him. He hadn't known intense pain could cause hallucinations until that moment. 

_"Come home to us, Jorah! Come build a new world with us!"_

Daenerys extended her fingers, her words a whisper as her sister turned her back on him. 

" _Come home to us, Ser Jorah."_

He kept screaming. 

***

Cersei had been thinking of ways to kill Rhaella Targaryen for  _years._ It seemed that her best solution after she evaded death more times then just about anyone else she knew was the giant Scorpion Qyburn had built. The weapon was strong enough to pierce a dragon's hide and perpetrate the skull, which if more were erected, would kill both the dragons  _and_ their riders. 

She had always had admiration for the Targaryens and their dragons, but Cersei was tired of Rhaella standing in her way. With Daenerys now on this side of the Narrow Sea, she would do whatever it took to keep Rhaella  _away_ from Jaime and from her Throne. 

Whatever it takes. 

"If they can be wounded, they can be killed." 

Her jaw dropped as the bolt of the Scorpion flew through Balerion's eye socket and impaled the back of his skull. The weapon was magnificent in size and more then able to do the job that was required of it. 

This was it. This weapon would win her war, keep her on the Iron Throne, and ensure a reign where  _she_ was Queen. 

No Targaryen dynasty would come while Cersei Lannister was still alive. 

*** 

_A raven from the Citadel. Samwell Tarly has discovered dragon glass hidden deep in the cliffs of Dragonstone, untouched by years come and gone and ready to be made into weapons. Queen Daenerys Targaryen wants me to meet her and bend the knee, and that's the only way we will procure the dragon glass needed to defeat the white walkers and the Night King._

Sansa could hardly believe the words coming from Jon's mouth as he made his case to the gathered Lords of the North. He wanted to leave the North, his appointed position, to meet with the one woman who wanted to take the North from them after they'd just gotten it back? 

"Have you forgotten what happened to our grandfather? He was invited to King's Landing and The Mad King  _roasted_ him alive!" 

"I know that." 

"She is here to claim the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms," Sansa argued. "The North is  _one_ of those Kingdoms! This isn't an invitation. It's a trap." The Lords gathered behind Jon called out in agreement as The King in the North met the eyes of his half sister. 

"It could be, but I don't believe Tyrion would do that. You know him, he's a good man." 

Lord Royce was the next to speak in a attempt to coax Jon out of his decision. Sansa's eyes flickered towards Brienne, who was watching her with a familiar intensity that said there was something she needed to say and could not say it in front of Jon and the other Lords of the North. 

" _A Targaryen cannot be trusted, nor can a Lannister."_

Sansa had much respect for Lyanna Mormont. She had more gall to stand up to Jon and the other men around her probably more then anyone she had ever met in her life, with the exception of Rhaella Mormont. 

_Mormont. Wait a minute-_

Her eyes snapped back to Brienne who held up a rolled scroll, the seal still neatly pressed, in her fingers. Jon hadn't mentioned a  _second_ scroll that had arrived with the letter from Daenerys.

She tried to persuade Jon into sending an emissary to Dragonstone to meet with Daenerys, but he remained adamant that he would be the one to go because a Queen would not hold conversation with a potential ally who wasn't a King himself. Her heart dropped into her stomach at his next words, "I'm leaving the people and Winterfell in good hands." 

"Who?" 

" _You."_ Jon smiled at her obvious shock as she saw Brienne smirk out of the corner of her eye. "You are my sister, you are the  _only_ Stark in Winterfell. Until I return.. The North is yours." 

This was what she'd trained for as a girl, to be a Queen. She should've been happier,  _thrilled_ at the prospect of doing the same that her mother had done, but all Sansa felt was dread. She was tired of war, tired of losing her family, tired of  _fighting._

But the people needed her, so a Queen she would be. 

 


	29. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Targaryen sisters talk of their pasts. Jaime takes Highgarden, and Cersei deals with the Sand Snakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really appreciate to hear what you all have to say about what I've posted for this fic. I'm a little more lenient over here with comments because of how many people read this story (which by the way, I was never anticipating) but please, after this chapter, leave me something. It's probably the longest one in the entire story. :)

" _The Queen, Your Mother... She was always mindful of her duty."_

_-Ser Barristan Selmy_

[According to the Song of Ice and Fire Wiki, Queen Rhaella had a miscarriage in 263 AC. We're gonna ignore that for this canon, but everything else following will be canon. What you need to know is that Rhaegar and Rhaella (daughter) are four years apart, which means he was born in  **259** and she was born in  **263**.]

***

She didn't often tell people, but when Rhaella was alone, she thought of all the children her mother had miscarried. The ones who had barely lived a year or who had been stillborn. She thought about all the babies who had never been, the way her father had accused her mother of infidelity. Queen Rhaella Targaryen was way too good for Aerys Targaryen, and she wished Jaeherys had done  _something_ to protect her. 

Her mother had protected herself, and in turn protected the four children she did have. 

Rhaella sipped at her wine as the flames danced in the fireplace before her. The night had been quiet since Daenerys and her counsel had departed for their chambers to reconvene in the morning. She knew it was only a matter of time before her baby sister appeared in her chambers to ask all the questions she had never been given answers to. 

"You look.. pensive." 

She cast a look over her shoulder and smiled softly at the sight. Daenerys was standing in the open doorway, her usually immaculately braided hair in loose waves around her shoulders, adorned in a loose red shift. It was the first time she'd looked her age since coming to Dragonstone. 

"I am pensive. I'm thinking about.. well, a lot of things." Rhaella replied. "If I were you, I'd grab the decanter and pour yourself a glass. We have a lot to talk about." Daenerys nodded and silently slipped across the room, grabbing the glass and decanter before she took a seat at the unusually large chair across from her sister. "Have you been through the entire Keep yet?" 

"No." She said softly. "But I imagine I'll have more then enough time. While I'm thinking about it.." Dany paused as she took a sip of her wine and made a distasteful expression. " _Seven Hells,_ what is this?" 

Rhaella rose a brow. "It's wine, Daenerys." 

"If you think this is wine, you've clearly never been to Essos." 

Daenerys's gaze softened as realization hit her. "No." Rhaella said. "I haven't, but props for effort." 

"I'm sorry, that was callous-" 

Rhaella shook her head. "No, it wasn't. You didn't know. It's to be expected." She sat the wine glass down and tucked her feet beneath her. "I guess I should start at the beginning, unless there are specific things you want to know." 

Daenerys pursed her lips as she pondered the first of many questions she wanted to ask. "Ser Barristan Selmy served as part of my Queensguard before he fell in the Battle for Meereen." Rhaella's eyes lit up at the mention of the former Knight, one who she and Rhaegar had spent quite a bit of time with as teenagers. "He said Rhaegar was good, kind. That the two of you went through the city and sang. You gave money to the poor." 

Wow. She hadn't thought about that in a long time. "Yes," Rhaella whispered. "We did." 

"So why does everyone I come across say Rhaegar betrayed the Kingdom and started a war?" It was an honest enough question, one she didn't entirely have an answer to because Rhaegar stopped speaking to her frequently after meeting Lyanna Stark. She was all that occupied his thoughts clear up until he died. "No one can give me a straight answer on that. I thought you might." 

"I can't give you a definitive answer on that, Dany. Rhaegar and I were close, but after Lyanna Stark.." Her voice drifted off. "Rhaegar married Elia Martell, The Princess of Dorne. It was at the tourney held by Lord Whent at Harrenhal when he rode past his wife and handed Lyanna Stark a crown of winter roses. I've never seen a crowd's joy die so fast." 

The memory was clear right in front of her eyes. She had been at that tourney for Jaime and Rhaegar, and had never been more disappointed in her older brother then in that moment where he disregarded his duty to his  _wife_ for his lust, love, whatever you wanted to call it, he had towards Ned Stark's sister. 

"And the Rebellion?" Daenerys asked quietly. 

"It's said Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna and raped her. I didn't believe it then, I don't believe it now." Her brother may have been a lot of things, but he would never stoop so low just to obtain a woman he couldn't have. "I can tell you what I think, Dany. I think Rhaegar was reckless and stupid and blinded by love so much that he neglected his duty and started a war because of it. I think I loved my brother, no matter how foolish he was, and I think about him every day." 

"You believe he loved Lyanna?" 

"I think he loved Elia, but I think he was  _in love_ with Lyanna. I don't know. He never told me." Rhaella said. "I knew him better then he believed me to up until his bitter end. I  _think_ he loved Lyanna Stark. I am  _certain_ the stories they whisper about The King Who Never Was are not true." 

Daenerys was quick to change the topic. "Were you in the Throne Room when The Kingslayer killed Father?" 

"First off, he was never a father to me." That was one thing she wanted in the open before they got onto the topic of Jaime. "When the Grand Maester diagnosed me with infertility,  _Aerys_ wrote me off like I never existed to begin with. The only good thing he ever did for me was allowing me to learn swordplay. Rhaegar didn't teach me. Aerys didn't teach me. Jaime Lannister did. The only thing  _Aerys_ did right was conceiving me. Our mother did more then he ever could've imagined." 

Dany's eyes darkened. "Why would you befriend a Lannister?" Her question dripped with distaste and clear disbelief at such a remarkably  _stupid_ action. "I only took Tyrion on as my Hand because of how clever he is. It'll be useful to me later. If I wasn't looking to be Queen, I'd burn him alive." 

"I'll gladly tell you how and  _why_ Jaime Lannister came into my life, but not yet." Rhaella replied, bending down to grab her wine glass from the floor. "After Aerys died, I was taken in by the Lannisters and hidden from the world as Cersei's handmaiden. I know many dark secrets about that woman. She-"  _Made me ignore my hearts desire for almost two decades because she was opening her legs for her brother. Mentally tortured me for years, made her hatred known when she was denied our brother._ "I only did it because I had to survive. The minute I was given an opportunity to leave, I did. I didn't look back." 

"That dagger." She motioned with her head to the opposite wall where Keeper was poised in its display case. "Polished, ornate, kept in good condition despite its age. It obviously means a great deal to you. And given that it's Valyrian steel, it came from someone with quite a lot of money. It's sentimental." 

"Yes. It is." She turned her eyes down to her hand where a beautiful ring sat on her left index finger. "As is that ring on your finger. It's our mothers." 

Daenerys froze and twisted the band back and forth between her fingers. "It was the only thing of hers I managed to keep." She whispered. "When Viserys and I were beggars, his last resort to be able to feed us both was selling mother's crown." Rhaella's breath caught in her throat. That crown had been beautiful and so uniquely her mothers that the thought of it in the hands of some  _commoner_ made her stomach twist. "They called our brother  _The Beggar King._ I think it was a fitting title." 

"Your marriage to the Khal made you stronger." She stated. "I imagine he hurt you in ways I can't comprehend. I never had to suffer the things you did. Much of what happened to me was circumstantial. I was humiliated, betrayed, mocked.. all for how I felt. I was never raped, never abused.." Her voice drifted off. "I think being married to him taught you many lessons you applied in your ruling of Meereen and will apply in Westeros. The Dothraki taught you cruelty, taught you ruthlessness. That's something you'll need for the type of people you'll be ruling." 

"You sound like you speak from experience." Daenerys replied. 

"I do." She hadn't told anyone about the man she'd killed during Cersei's Walk of Shame. Not even Jaime. "I believed the common people to be  _good_ , kind folk.. but then one of them, he-" Daenerys reached across the gap and laid her hand on top of Rhaellas, urging her to continue. "Touched me in a way no man, unless he is my husband, should be touched. And no highborn wants to marry a woman who cannot conceive his heirs." 

"Now  _that_ I understand." Daenerys moved to refill her wine glass. "Let me tell you the story of Rhaego." 

And so they spent their time from dusk until dawn talking. About pain and loss, grief and hardship, loyalty and love. Daenerys constantly remarked that the more she heard about their mother, the more she saw similarities between the two. Rhaella and Rhaella. _I imagine they got confused quite a bit._

Alive, warm and safe, Princess Rhaella Targaryen laughed alongside her sister and finished the decanter of wine as they talked about House Targaryen and its legacy. 

***

 _Freedom._ That was the only word Rhaella could use to describe what flying on the back of her dragon. It had been a trial for Rhaegal to trust her enough to get  _on_ him, but she found after several futile attempts that all three of Daenerys' children understood Valyrian. 

All three dragons were wary of her as soon as she came onto the cliffs where they were resting. Drogon even went as far as to roar right before her, wings spread out so far that they expanded over the cliffs. She didn't move, didn't flinch, and that seemed to catch his attention. She showed absolutely no fear in the sight of her sister's children. 

"Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor." Rhaella murmured. She slowly extended her hand to rest against Drogon's nose, fingers spread evenly against the rough skin as he leaned into her touch. "A dragon is not a slave." 

She saw the darkness shrouded in Drogon.  _The winged shadow._ The largest and the most powerful of Daenerys's children. 

Her attention turned to Viserion.  _Named after Viserys. For he will do what my brother could not._

And finally her eyes fell on Rhaegal. Named after The King Who Never Was, born for their valiant brother who had fallen on the Banks of the Trident. "Rhaegal," Rhaella called out. The dragon turned narrow eyes to her and growled lowly as she approached him. "Gaomagon daor zūgagon, syt iksan aōha keeper.  Kesan gaomagon skoros aōha muña daor." 

The dragon seemed to understand her rather well, and so he bent low to the ground to allow her traction in climbing his wing and settling herself down comfortably against his back. Rhaegal whined as his brothers turned to the skies, and Rhaella shrieked giddily as the dragon took off after them. 

_Freedom._

_(_ 1: Do not fear, for I am Your Keeper. I will do what your mother cannot.) 

***

Euron had promised Cersei that he would not return to King's Landing until he had gifts worthy of her trust. So to say she was thrilled when the new King of the Iron Islands threw down the Sand Snakes and Yara Greyjoy at the foot of the Iron Throne would've been a massive understatement. 

She'd secretly hoped he'd be lucky and find Rhaella Targaryen, but even that was far fetched. Cersei had been waiting for vengeance against Ellaria Sand since the day that Jaime had brought Myrcella home in a casket. This was long overdue. 

"I want you to know I understand. Even though we're enemies, you and I, I understand the fury that drives you." Ellaria grunted against the gag in her mouth and thrashed in her chains, desperate to get closer to her daughter on the opposite wall. "I was there that day when Ser Gregor crushed your lovers head. I close my eyes and I can  _hear_ the sound of Oberyn's skull breaking. The sound of your scream. I'd never heard a sound like that and so I thought, " _Wow. That's true love._ " Oberyn looked beautiful that day. He really did. No one moved like him, no one had such skill with a spear." Cersei smiled, that same contemptuous smile Rhaella Targaryen had seen for twenty plus years. "Even Ser Gregor couldn't stop him. If only Oberyn hadn't taunted him, he could've walked away and left poor Ser Gregor to die. But that wasn't your lovers way, was it?" 

"Now he's buried somewhere." Cersei didn't miss the shine of tears in Ellaria's eyes. She was going to do everything possible to hit every visible chink in her armor. "When my daughter was taken from me, my  _only_ daughter- Well, you can't imagine how that feels unless you've lost a child. I fed her at my own breast even though they told me to give her to the wet nurse. I couldn't bear to see her in another woman's arms. I never got to have a mother, but Myrcella did. She was  _mine_ and you took her from me. Why did you do that?" 

Ellaria caught that, the rare moment of vulnerability from a mother mourning her daughter. 

Defiance. Vengeance. Justice. Cersei imagined that Ellaria probably would've given a number of answers to that question. Or maybe she knew the truth of who sired her children, two fallen kings and a fallen princess. _Gold will be their crowns, and gold their shrouds._

 _"_ It doesn't matter now." Ellaria stiffened as Cersei crossed the cell to stand beside her daughter. "Your daughter is a beauty too. Those brown eyes, those lips.. perfect Dornish beauty." If she could've screamed, Cersei imagined Ellaria would've started yelling at her to leave Tyene alone in that moment. "I know, I know. We're not supposed to have favorites, but we're only human. We love who we love." Her eyes flickered back to Ellaria who was desperately trying to speak against the gag in her mouth.  _Leave her alone, take me instead- Just let her live._ "I'm sorry, I can't understand you. The gag in your mouth makes it impossible to understand what you're saying. It can be frustrating." Cersei tilted her head. "We all make our choices. You chose to murder my daughter, you must've felt powerful after you made that choice." 

The chains rang in the silence of the Black Cells as Ellaria maneuvered all her weight onto her toes, pulling herself as close to Tyene as her restraints would allow. "Do you feel powerful now?" There was something there, lingering in the back of the eyes she shared with Jaime. Cersei seemed rather..  _amused_ by the entire endeavor. Like torturing another mother/daughter pair for what was taken from her gave her  _joy._ "I don't sleep very well. Not at all, really. I lie in bed and I stare at the canopy while imagining ways of killing my enemies. How to destroy Ellaria Sand, the woman who murdered my only daughter. I thought about having Ser Gregor crush your skull the way he did Oberyns. But that would be fast, far too fast. I thought about having him crush your daughters skull," Cersei cupped Tyene's face in her hands as she removed the gag from her mouth. "She is so beautiful. The thought of this lovely face cracking open like a duck egg, it's just not right." 

Ellaria felt her heart drop into her stomach when Cersei pressed her lips to Tyenes.  _No. No no no no no._

That was the first time her daughter spoke since they'd been brought to the Capital. 

"Mama?" 

The cell filled with the sounds of desperate, broken sobs as Ellaria sank to her knees in defeat. Cersei took the cloth from Qyburn and wiped the poison off her lips as she watched Tyene do the same, doe eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to reach her distraught mother.

"Qyburn here is the cleverest man I know. Clever enough to learn the poison you used to murder Myrcella." She turned her attention to her Hand. "The Long Goodbye, is that it?" 

"The Long Farewell." Qyburn replied. 

"That's the one." Cersei drank the antidote from the vial and handed it back to him. "How long does the poison take?" 

"It's difficult to say. Hours, days.. it depends on the subjects constitution." Qyburn said. 

"And death is certain?" 

"Oh yes, Your Grace. Quite so." 

There was not a trace of regret or remorse in her expression as Cersei knelt down to meet Ellaria's eyes. "Your daughter will die here in this cell." She murmured. "You will be here watching when she does. You will be here the rest of your days. If you refuse to eat, we'll force food down your throat. You will live to watch your daughter rot, to watch that beautiful face collapse to bone and dust. All the while contemplating the choices you've made." Cersei paused. "Make sure the guards change the torches every few hours. I don't want her to miss a thing." 

The Black Cells would never forget the sound of Ellaria Sand and the way she screamed as her daughter died before her. 

***

She sought him out that night. It had been a trial being in the Capital since returning from the Siege at the Twins, but so far Jaime had managed to show every utterance of the word  _Targaryen_ and  _dragons_ and  _Rhaella_ into the corner of his mind so he could focus on the reality in front of him. 

He hadn't felt guilt about sleeping with Cersei since it had all started. 

" _No._ " It was a clear cut answer, but she didn't seem to want to hear it. Cersei had carried all three of his children and birthed them into the world, allowed him to fill her into the hilt because it made her feel  _good_ , but when had she ever cared about what he wanted? How long had Jaime been a pawn in her endless game? 

When he woke that next morning, his first thought was of Rhaella. _By all the Gods... what am I supposed to tell her if I ever see her again?_

Her final words in that letter he kept hidden in the scabbard of Widow's Wail rang in his ears as he stared at his sister.

**I’m going to leave you one last choice, Jaime.  Think of all you know about this sister you so claim to love. How she’s hurt you. How Cersei shunned you when you lost your hand, how venomous she remained when you hid me away from the world to save House Targaryen from certain demise. You are a better man then Cersei will ever believe you to be** _._

He wanted to believe Rhaella was right. Maybe one day he'd come to his senses and leave her behind, but that wasn't coming anytime soon. Jaime was damned as long as he stayed in King's Landing. His decades long dream of confessing how he felt about his best friend would never exist, and Rhaella would either curse him or kill him by the time Daenerys tried to take the city. There was no happy ending here. 

The knock on the door stirred her. Even in the morning light, despite every instinct telling him to hide underneath the covers as he did when they were children, Cersei was still breathtaking. "Don't." He said slowly. She ignored his warnings for a chaste kiss and rose to grab her robe from the chair beside the bed. "What are you doing? No one can see us like this." 

"I'm Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I can do what I like." 

The servant on the other side of the door saw him as soon as it was opened, but if she was bothered, she made no effort to show it. "Forgive me, Your Grace." She said. "But the visitor from Braavos has arrived." 

Cersei smiled. "Good." She replied. "And we'll need fresh sheets for the bed." 

"At once, Your Grace." 

Jaime huffed exasperatedly and threw himself back against the pillows. 

*** 

Daenerys watched from the staircase as her sister swooped downward on her dragon, laughter echoing in the air as Rhaegal's wings snapped outward and he flew over the water with Viserion and Drogon overhead. She hadn't seen Rhaella since their conversation the previous day, and Tyrion had remarked that she'd been on the back of Rhaegal since dawn. Nothing had brought her down from the skies. 

She smiled at the sight. Her sister had been longing for freedom for  _years_ , and all it had taken was one dragon to give it to her. "Well deserved, Princess." 

"Amazing thing to see." 

"I named them for my brother, Viserys and Rhaegar." Daenerys replied. She didn't bother to look at Jon as he descended the staircase. "I always knew one of them would be for Rhaella, and I'm not exactly surprised that she's been up there since dawn. She was born for this." 

"What?" 

Daenerys extended her hand towards the dragons. "Dragonriding." She replied. "Freedom. Whatever you'd like to refer to it as, she has done more then enough to deserve it. I will utilize her skills when the time comes." Dany turned around to face him. "You've lost two brothers as well." Jon didn't particularly want to relive Rickon being killed in front of him or the news of Robb's murder at the Red Wedding, so he chose a silent nod. Daenerys continued, "People thought dragons were gone forever, but here they are. Perhaps we should all be examining what we think we know." 

"You've been talking to Tyrion." 

Daenerys had turned around to face Jon in the midst of their conversation and missed Rhaella's descent to the cliffs. "He is my Hand." She replied. 

"He enjoys talking." 

"We all enjoy what we're good at." 

Jon paused for a moment before he shook his head. "I don't." 

"You know I'm not going to let Cersei  _stay_ on the Iron Throne." Daenerys remarked. "And I haven't changed my mind about which Kingdoms belong to that Throne." 

If Jon left here without the North's independence in hand, Sansa would never let him hear the end of it. "I haven't either." 

"I will allow you to mine the dragon glass and forge weapons from it." Jons eyes widened as he turned his head to meet her icy gaze. "Any resources or men you need, I will provide for you. And as for answers to your questions.. I imagine my sister might be able to provide some insight." 

"Thank you." Jon wasn't entirely sure what else he was supposed to say. Coming here and meeting with Daenerys had been a struggle due to the opposition from his sister and the other Northerners, and the future Queen of Westeros was adamant that the North would bend the knee and remain a loyal Kingdom as would the rest of the country. Nothing was ever that easy especially when Northerners were involved. "So you believe me then, about the Night King and the Army of the Dead?" 

She didn't answer him, and instead said, "You better get to work, Jon Snow." 

***

"Jon!" 

Jon and Davos turned around as a woman who shared many, many features with Daenerys bounded down the stairs with a parchment in her hand. Her silver hair was windswept and tied back in a messy ponytail, and for supposedly being the sister of the Queen, she looked nothing like the part. "Forgive me," He replied. "But you are?" 

"I've been riding a dragon for the last eight hours. Forgive me for not giving formal introductions." Rhaella gave a half bow and smiled. She was so...  _different_ from Daenerys. Open, friendlier, freer. "My name is Rhaella Targaryen. I'm second of my name." 

"After your Queen Mother?" 

"That's correct." 

"And what do you want with me?" 

Rhaella held the parchment up between her fingers. "The day that you decided to come here was the same day another raven came with correspondence for your sister, Sansa." His eyes narrowed at the mention of the Lady of Winterfell, who had never told him she'd known a Targaryen before Daenerys came to Westeros. "Don't fret. I actually met your sister when your father brought her and Arya to King's Landing. I watched over her after he died." 

"Where were you when Joffrey tortured her?" 

Rhaella's face fell. "I was not where I should've been." She replied darkly. "That's all you need to know. If I could apologize for not being there for Sansa, I would. I  _will._ " She extended her hand. "This is a letter for Brienne of Tarth, her sworn sword. I would be grateful if you'd give it to her when you go back to Winterfell." 

Jon took the letter and carefully tucked it into his cloak. "I thought you already-" 

Rhaella shook her head. "No. The last correspondence I sent to Sansa was about how she'd, with good cause, be reluctant to send you here because of Daenerys and the reputation our House has. It was me telling Sansa the truth about who I really am. A Targaryen, not a Mormont." 

Jon knew better then to ask what that meant, so he patted his cloak and nodded. "I'll be sure this letter arrives in Lady Brienne's hands, Lady Targaryen." 

"Please, no formalities. I'm not a Queen, and I don't particularly want to be a Lady." Rhaella laughed quietly under her breath and feigned a warm smile. "I'm just me, Jon Snow." 

***

Olenna Tyrell was waiting for him when he arrived in High Garden. Jaime passed the Lannister men and found the sole survivor of House Tyrell waiting for him in a nearby study, adorned in black from head to toe and looking rather pensive as she waited for her fate. 

"It's done." 

He nodded. "It is." 

" _And now the rains weep o'r our halls._ Did we fight well?" She asked. 

"As well as can be expected." He replied. 

Olenna sighed as Jaime moved to fill the two empty wine glasses on the table beside him. "It was never our forte. Golden roses, indeed. Your brother and his new Queen thought you'd be defending Casterly Rock."

"The truth is Casterly Rock isn't worth much anymore." Jaime said. "Well, it is to me but my fond childhood memories won't keep Cersei on the Throne."

"So you'll just let them  _take_ it?" Olenna remarked. 

"For now. They won't be able to hold it. Euron Greyjoy's navy burned their ships and we emptied the larders before we left. Eventually they'll be forced to abandon their position and march all the way across Westeros." 

"And you took your army, your real army, and went where they weren't." 

"As Robb Stark did to me at Whispering Wood." He pulled the chair across from her out and sat himself down in it. "There are always lessons in failures." 

" _Yes_ ," She sneered. "You must be very wise by now. Tell me, that Targaryen girl,  _Rhaella._ " Olenna immediately noticed the way Jaime stiffened at the mention of her. "I saw her riding her _dragon_ when I was at Dragonstone. She failed to save her father, save her mother, save her brothers. Do you think  _she_ learned lessons from her failures by being the sworn sword to her sister?" 

"Most likely." Jaime replied cooly. "Rhaella always was smarter then the rest of us. My father always said I happened to be a slow learner. She helped alot with that." 

"Tell me," Olenna said. "If he was so clever, why didn't he take Highgarden the moment your goldmines ran dry?" She laughed to herself. "I suppose I'll be able to ask him myself soon enough. No more learning from my mistakes, eh?" Jaime cast his eyes toward the ground. He knew Rhaella had been fond of Olenna and the Tyrells, as had Tommen. Killing her was the last thing he wanted to do, but she was the opposition of Cersei sitting on the Iron Throne and they couldn't have that. "How will you do it? With that sword? That was Joffrey's sword, wasn't it? Not that he ever used it. What did he call it?" 

"Widow's Wail." 

"He really was a cunt, wasn't he?" When Jaime didn't answer, she continued. "I did unspeakable things to protect my family. Or watched them being done on my orders. I never lost a nights sleep over them. They were necessary. Whatever I imagine necessary for House Tyrell, I did. Your sister... she has done things I wasn't capable of imagining. That was my prized mistake. A failure of imagination." Olenna looked up to meet him. "She's a monster, you do know that."

His mind echoed back to the things Rhaella refused to tell him, all the times Cersei had mentally tortured her behind closed doors.  _She's a monster. A monster. A murderer._

"To you, I'm sure." Jaime replied. "To others as well. After we've won and there's no one left to oppose us, when people are living peacefully in a world she built, do you really think they'll wring their hands over the way she built it?" 

_I will never sit under a reign where Cersei wears that crown._

"You love her." She said it so obviously that Jaime knew she  _finally_ realized it. "You really do love her. That's a shame. She'll be the end of you." 

"Possibly." He cocked a brow and curled his lip. "There's not much to be gained discussing it with you, is there?" 

"What better person to discuss it with? What guarantee do you have that the things you say will ever leave this room? But perhaps you're right, if she's driven you this far.. it's gone beyond your control."  _You're a better man then Cersei claims you to be._

The chain hiding the golden ring underneath his fathers armor suddenly felt heavier. 

"Yes." He said solemnly. "It has." 

"She's a disease. I regret my role in spreading it. You will too." 

Jaime stood to his feet. "I think we're done here." He snapped in reply. 

"How will it happen?" Olenna asked. Jaime thought he'd be surprised at how resigned she was to dying, but given that she had outlived her entire family, it didn't come as much of a shock that Olenna was ready to be with them again. 

"Cersei had several ideas. Whipping you through the streets and beheading you in front of the Red Keep. Flaying you alive and hanging you from the walls of King's Landing. I talked her out of those." Her eyes followed his movements as Jaime removed a small vial from his belt and poured the liquid it contained into her wine. 

"Will there be pain?" 

He shook his head. "No. I made sure of that." 

"That's good." She lifted the glass and downed most of the wine in several large gulps, setting it back down again before lifting her chin to defiantly meet his gaze. "I'd hate to die like your son. Clawing at my neck, foam and bile spilling from my mouth. Eyes blood red, skin purple.. It must've been horrible for you.  As a Kingsguard, as a father.. It was horrible enough for  _me_. A shocking scene." She paused. "Not at all what I intended." 

His heart dropped into his stomach at that, and the obvious shock of realizing what she said was evident in his expression as Olenna continued. "You see, I'd never seen the poison work before. Tell Cersei. I want her to know it wasn't the Targaryen princess or your clever little brother. I want her to know it was  _me._ " 

Jaime stormed out of the room before she could say anything else. Despite the poison in her blood, The Queen of Thorns words had done more to him then any punishment the Lannisters could've inflicted on her. 

_A legend to her last._

 


	30. The Sound Of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for the Gold Road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how popular this fic is.   
> Wow.   
> Review are lovely <33333

Daenerys found herself utterly stunned by Jon Snow's persistence once they stood together in the dragon glass caves. She'd given him permission to mine it for his war effort against The Night King and his army, and now here she stood - in utter awe - of the history of Westeros spread out like children paintings across the walls before her. 

She should've known it was a ploy to bring her to his side, to fight a war she didn't entirely believe in. 

"They fought together against their common enemy. Despite their differences, despite their suspicions. Together." Dany met dark eyes through the flickering of her torch. "We need to do the same if we're going to survive." Both of them looked back up to the etched drawings of the White Walkers. "Because the enemy is real, it's always been real." 

"And you say you can't defeat them without my armies or my dragons?" 

"No." Jon replied. "I don't think I can." Daenerys stepped forward to close the gap between them, eyes locked with his own. It was hard to ignore the draw she felt towards him. 

"I will fight for you." Daenerys said. It was a proclamation, a promise, one that eased the tension in his shoulders and made Jon sigh with relief. "I will fight for the North, when you bend the knee." 

His hopeful expression fell flat. 

"My people won't accept a Southern ruler." It was the truest thing he'd uttered all morning. The people of Winterfell wouldn't do it and Sansa definitely wouldn't trust a Targaryen on the Iron Throne. Maybe if it was Dany's sister who she was somewhat familiar with. "Not after everything they've suffered." 

"They will if their King does." Daenerys persisted. "They chose you to lead them. Isn't their survival more important then your pride?" 

They stared at each other for a long moment before leaving the dragon glass caves, only to find Varys and Tyrion waiting for them outside. 

Her face fell. "What is it?" 

"We took Casterly Rock." Tyrion replied. Going by the lack of vigor in his expression, Daenerys assumed that even though they'd taken one of the most impregnable fortresses in Westeros that something still hadn't gone according to plan. 

"That's very good to hear." She said. Tyrion and Varys looked at each other uncertainly. "Isn't it?" 

Rhaella glanced up from where she was standing ankle deep in the tide, keeping watch over Alice and Ada as they took the boat out for their weekly fishing excursion. Her thoughts were on the armor Daenerys had presented her with earlier that morning when she'd gone out for her training with Rhaegal. It was a beautiful obsidian armor with red accents along the arms and torso that reminded her of dragon scales, and a hand crafted Targaryen emblem on the breast. It was probably the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. 

"Rhaella!" 

And she was hoping she'd never have to put it to use. 

"Dany?" Rhaella asked. Pushing unkempt hair behind her ears, Rhaella furrowed her brow at her sisters infuriated expression. "What's going on?" 

"All of my allies are gone." Daenerys stopped in front of her sister and straightened her shoulders. There was absolutely zero trace of the girl who dreamed of the house with the red door and the lemon tree outside her window.  "Cersei has taken all of the available food from the Reach while her brother has taken Highgarden with his armies and killed Olenna Tyrell." Rhaella felt her heart drop into her stomach at the thought of House Tyrell finally being obliterated with the swing of Jaimes- no. If he was going to kill her, he'd do it his way. Not the way of his sister. "Enough with the clever plans, I have three large dragons and a dragon rider sister. We're going to fly them to the Red Keep." 

_Finally._

"We've discussed this-" 

"My enemies are in The Red Keep." Daenerys snapped back, her voice hard and cold. "What kind of a Queen am I if I'm not willing to risk my life to fight for them?" 

"A smart one." Tyrion replied. 

Daenerys turned her attention towards Jon. "What do you think I should do?" It was an innocent enough question, especially for someone who would've been acting on impulse were it not for the influence of her older sister and her Hand. "I'm at war and I'm losing. What do you think I should do?" 

The dragons roared once again from where they flew over the tide. 

"I never thought dragons would exist again. No one did. The people who follow you know you made something impossible happen. Maybe that helps them believe you can make other impossible things happen. if you use them to melt castles, you're not different. You're just more of the same." 

Daenerys turned back around to Rhaella, blue eyes flickering up and down to gaze at the armor she'd had made for her sister. The one she polished and displayed in her chambers was worn with age, a gift from their brother, and Dany had wanted her sister to have something new for the new world she intended on bringing. For the new Targaryen dynasty. 

***

_You will know the moment when you are most dire. Wait for it._

Rhaella had never been on a battlefield before. She'd heard war stories from Jaime, whispered in dark corners of the Red Keep over the years she had distanced herself from him, but she'd still heard them. She had seen the Bloody Mummers cut his hand off and had watched Brienne of Tarth take lives without so much as breaking a sweat. She'd heard the stories about the Red Wedding and the blood that had stained the halls of Riverrun. She'd seen the carnage of the Sack of King's Landing and the bodies of the men she'd been forced to kill. Rhaegar's soldiers. 

But none of that compared to what was happening right in front of her eyes. 

The Dothraki went first. The Lannister soldiers flew into a frenzy to try and protect their newly obtained gold, fabricating a formation three men deep that spread several feet outward with their spears brandished and poised between the blazing Lannister shields they held. 

She watched on. 

Rhaella had seen fire. She had been there when her father had burned Rickard Stark in the Throne Room. She'd been there when he'd burned the Hands he didn't like and people who opposed him. Watching Daenerys obliterate the scattered remains of the Lannisters reminded her way too much of Aerys. The thought of her turning into that sent shivers down her spine. 

Rhaegal whined at the obvious discomfort from his rider. 

"Ȳdra daor zūgagon.  Kesi ērinagon kesīr."  _(1)_

She didn't emerge from behind the hill until the bolt of a large weapon flew through the smoke that had settled in the midst of the spreading fires and pierced the underside of Drogon's wing. Rhaella pressed her hand over her mouth and watched as the dragon flew through the air, her sister struggling to control the beast before it slowly settled onto the ground. 

"Rhaegal, Sōvegon!"  _(2)_

Rhaegal did as he was told, taking off through the air and flying high above the carnage on the ground. Rhaella watched the ashes of the men who had fallen victim to the dragon fire scatter across the scorched Earth, remains of fallen soldiers who would have had no way to prevail against such an opponent. Such is war. 

The Lannister soldiers were screaming. Most of them were running, and the Dothraki were cutting them down as they went. 

Burn them all, he said. She could hear him, hear The Mad King as he screamed from his Throne. Burn them all. She could hear her mother's cries for help and she could feel the way Viserys trembled against her as they sat in their chambers, two children helpless to protect their mother. 

Rhaella allowed her eyes to flutter shut. 

"Dracarys." ( _3)_

The world exploded in a flurry of orange around her. 

***

_Jaime._

"You idiot," Her heart began pounding as she moved herself to sit on her haunches, hands still gripping the spines of Rhaegal's back. "You absolute idiot- Rhaegal, Ilagon!" ( _4)_

The dragon's wings snapped outward to steady his flight as he descended towards the ground, and Rhaella poised herself angled on his wing for the precise moment when an opportunity opened to dive. Wide blue eyes watched Jaime as he charged towards Drogon with the spear extended, expression dead set with the intention of killing Daenerys and ending the War of the Two Queens. 

_Careful, Targaryen. You're bordering on sentimental._

His bravery was admirable though, she'd give him that. 

Bump bump. Bump bump. Bump bump. Rhaella had thought she'd be more afraid to pull such a reckless move when Daenerys was right there and still had no idea about the nature of her relationship with Jaime, but she'd spent so much of her life being selfless that it was high time to be a little bit selfish. If it meant he'd lived, she'd be okay with that. 

Her feet propelled her off the side of the dragon, and into the air she went. 

Falling. Falling. Fallen.

Jaime gasped as a unseen object collided with his side and together they plunged into the river, down into the dark, and the last thing he recalled before the darkness claimed him was the sight of bright blue eyes that seemed to never leave his memory. 

<><><><><><<><><><><><<>

_Valyrian translations:_

_1: Do not be afraid. We will win here._

_2: Fly_

_3: dragon fire (this is literally what dracarys translates to LOL)_

_4: down!_


	31. Ruthless and Cruel (It’s Her Trademark)

The first thing she realized was that she and Jaime were drowning. 

Eyes wide with alarm, Rhaella took a thirty second lapse to realize what she had just done - launched herself off of her dragon right in front of her sister - to save the man she loved. The same man who had gone scurrying back to his sister with his tail in between his legs because he simply did not know how to live without her. 

_Fool. You're a fool for falling in love with an oath-breaker._

Her eyes found the shape of Jaime's form sinking to the bottom of the river. Despite the armor weighing her down and the obvious consequences of her decision that Daenerys was sure to question, she swam after him anyway. Her arms wrapped underneath his own and pulled his body against hers before she urged her feet to kick faster, faster, towards the light above them. 

A huge, heaving gasp broke the air as Rhaella dragged Jaime onto the banks opposite of the Golden Road. She hadn't even considered the  _state_ of the place, let alone what would happen after she threw herself off of Rhaegal right in front of Daenerys. 

She collapsed at his side. Thankfully, Jaime was still unconscious. 

"I don't know if you're stupid, or a fool. Maybe both." The sound of Bronn's voice broke through her trance, and Rhaella shot upward with her hand seeking Keeper's hilt. The dagger was still tucked against her side as it always was, but Blackfyre was safely grasped in the hands of Tyrion's former sell sword. She had despised the man since the day he met. 

"You'd be foolish to not give that sword back to me." Rhaella said lowly. "My dragon is still on the battlefield. I'll burn you alive." 

"See, that's the thing. Burning people alive? Not your thing. You're not your sister. I saw that much when you plunged into the depths to save a  _Lannister._ " He replied, tossing the sword at her feet. "You did it right in front of her, too. Maybe you'll get lucky and she won't question you, but that fellow right there is bound to realize you risked  _death by dragon fire_ to save him." 

"No, he won't." Rhaella knelt in the sand and pushed her hair behind her ears. Daenerys had braided it before they left, but after plunging into the river, Rhaella looked like something out of a nightmare. Her face covered in soot and dirt, soaked to the bone and shivering from the chill of her armor despite the heat from the battle. She still had the strength to gaze down at Jaime. He looked so much younger when he was asleep. Like he hadn't been broken down by the events he'd endured or overwhelmed by the weight of yet another war. He looked... well, the way he'd looked when she was ten-and-six.  _Innocent._ "Because you're not going to tell him." 

Bronn seemed to know how they felt about each other, despite the fact they'd never had one conversation before this moment. "So what do you want me to tell him?" He asked as she brushed the wet hair away from his brow and bent her head to place the ghost of a kiss against his forehead. "That he was the damsel in distress and got saved by a fair warrior?" 

"I'm not a warrior." 

"So what are you?" Bronn winced as a high-pitched whistle pierced the air, and he watched as the green dragon flew over the remains of the Gold Road and hovered over the river, beady eyes narrowing as he huffed through his nose. He watched The Dragon Princess beckon to her creature, urging him low enough for her to climb onto him. 

"I'm not a warrior or a Lady, Ser." She shouted. "I'm just a Targaryen. Just  _me._ " 

Jaime didn't wake for another ten minutes before he snapped upward and whispered her name, which Bronn heard clearly despite his obvious distress. He hadn't been anticipating the second dragon. He hadn't been expecting  _Rhaella_ to be on the second dragon, or for her to throw herself into the thick of it to save him from death by fire. His literal worst fear. 

A Targaryen had saved him from death by dragon fire. A Targaryen who hadn't been hardened by the world, who didn't wish fire and blood on her enemies like her sister did.

Who knows. Maybe it was a dream.

Irony at its finest. 

***

Rhaella circled back around and landed beside Drogon, who stood on a large rock overlooking the remains of the Lannister army. Daenerys and her Dothraki Bloodriders were standing below her, with Tyrion at her side as the ever faithful Hand he was. 

She wasn't about to interfere with what was occurring. Daenerys had known prior to coming over to Westeros that obtaining the love of the people she needed for a successful rule would probably be the most difficult part of her journey to sitting on the Iron Throne. Daenerys instilled fear. Rhaella didn't. That was the difference between them.

"I know what Cersei has told you about me. That I have come to destroy your cities, burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That is  _Cersei Lannister._ That is not me." Daenerys said as she spoke to the remains of the Lannister army. "I'm not here to murder. All I want to destroy is the wheel that has rolled over rich and poor to the benefit of no one  _but_ the Cersei Lannisters of the world." She paused. "I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me, or refuse.. and die." 

Rhaella was struck with something Rhaegar had told her years ago, when he'd found out that Jaime had begun training her in swordplay. He'd said he'd heard it from Ser Barristan Selmy. Given how much time the elder Targaryens spent with the Kingsguard, Rhaella had taken it as truth. 

" _Sometimes it's better to answer injustice with mercy."_

That wasn't Daenerys' way. 

Drogon gave a mighty roar, and the greater majority bent the knee except for the loyal few who remained standing. "Step forward, My Lord." Rhaella watched as an older man stepped out of the crowd, looking to be in his late fifties. Definitely someone who had fought in wars before. "You will not kneel?" 

"I already have a Queen." 

"My sister." Tyrion replied. "Though, if I'm correct, she wasn't your Queen until recently. When she murdered your rightful Queen and destroyed House Tyrell for all time. So it appears that your allegiances are somewhat flexible." 

"There are no easy choices in war." He said. ''Say what you will about your sister, but she was  _born_ in Westeros. Lady Rhaella holds more of a claim then you do!" Rhaella froze and shrunk down into her dragon's back, praying that the soldiers were oblivious to her presence. "She too was born and raised in Westeros! You on the other hand, murdered your own father and chose to support a foreign invader. One with no ties to this land and an army of savages at her back." 

"You will not trade your honor for your life?" Daenerys asked. "I respect that." 

"Perhaps he could take the Black, Your Grace." Tyrion countered. "Whatever else he is, he is a valuable soldier. He'd be invaluable at the Wall." 

"You cannot send me to the Wall. You are  _not_ my Queen." 

Ah, defiance at its best. 

Daenerys gave a curt nod to her Dothraki, who gripped the older man by the arms and motioned him forward to where he stood just in reach of Drogon. ''You'll have to kill me too." Rhaella felt her stomach roll as a younger man, clearly the son to the older man, appeared in the front of the crowd. 

"Who are you?" 

"A stupid boy!" The older man countered. No one had referred to him by name by this point. "Who needs to step back and keep his mouth  _shut."_

That didn't deter the younger boy. "I am Dickon Tarly." He proclaimed. "Son of Randyll Tarly."

"You are the future of your House!" Tyrion exclaimed. Rhaella clenched and unclenched her fists as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. "This war has already wiped one great House from the world. Don't let it happen to another. Bend the knee!" 

Dickon looked to his father for assurance. "I will not." He said, to which Randyll nodded firmly. It seemed their devotion was solely to Cersei, and no one but Cersei. Poor fools. 

Tyrion moved to speak lowly to Daenerys again, desperation evident in his expression as he used every possible argument to keep Daenerys from obliterating yet another House. If this war continued the way Rhaella imagined it would, then Daenerys will have killed almost half the noble houses in Westeros by its end. 

"Lord Randyll Tarly, Dickon Tarly. I, Daenerys Targaryen, First of My Name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die." 

Silence. 

"Dracarys." 

She'd never forget the sounds of dying men screaming as they turned to ash before her eyes.  

****

And just as anticipated, Daenerys was waiting to unleash hellfire when they arrived back on Dragonstone. Rhaella arrived just in time to watch Jon approach Drogon, hand extended, terror clearing in his eyes as he waited for the dragon to burn him alive. No such thing came. Rhaella had believed that the dragons were only to be touched and ridden by those with the Targaryen blood. So how was it that the King in the North managed to do what other men could not?

"Would you care to explain to me  _why_ I saw you launch yourself recklessly off your dragon to save the very man who murdered our father?" 

"No." Rhaella snapped in reply. Jon folded his hands together and lingered in the background uncomfortably. "I wouldn't. It was  _my_ choice to do it, and if you have a problem, figure out what to do about it." 

"I could have Drogon kill you. The only problem with that is that fire cannot kill a dragon." She was serious. Daenerys was  _serious_ about killing her for the relationship she had with the man who killed Aerys to save the rest of Westeros. "I could torture you  _mercilessly_ for having a relationship with an oathbreaker, the very man who brought the end to our House. It's what I should do." She paused as the Dothraki appeared over the hill. "But I won't. You'll tell me in time, when you feel comfortable enough. It often slips my mind we are still getting to know one another. However, if you betray me.. I _will_ end you."

The two sisters met eyes.

"I'd like to see you try."  

Rhaella breathed a sigh of relief as Daenerys turned her attention away. That meant Jaime could live another day and Dany wouldn't try to crucify her just yet. 

The Dothraki called out something in his mother tongue to which Daenerys replied promptly, and the four men parted to reveal none other then Ser Jorah Mormont. Rhaella gasped at the sight of the older man. Even thought it had been decades since she'd seen him last, he was still the same man she'd seen when they'd gone to the Bear Islands those few scarce times. He was still the man who'd sacrificed quite a bit to protect Daenerys from the world around her. 

She didn't bother moving to greet him. Wedged between The King in the North and The Dragon Queen, The Dragon Princess merely smiled at the Old Bear. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt such joy in the face of her past. 

"Jon Snow, this is Ser Jorah Mormont. He's.. an old friend." Daenerys said proudly. 

"I served with your father." Jon replied. "He was a good man." 

Rhaella also noticed how  _vulnerable_ Daenerys was at the sight of Jorah. She hadn't been made aware of the depth of their relationship during that first night in Dragonstone, but given the tears in her sisters eyes and the gentleness of her voice, she obviously cared a great deal for her sworn sword. 

"You look strong. You found a cure?" 

"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't." Jorah said. "I return to your service, My Queen. If you'll have me." 

"It would be my honor." 

Rhaella blinked away the tears in her eyes as they embraced. It wasn't until Jorah parted from her and Daenerys lead the Dothraki and Jon back into the halls of the Keep that he moved to speak with her. "And as for you, Princess." He murmured, lips turning upward in a grin as a sob broke past her lips. "You've grown." 

She punched him in the arm. 

"Decades apart and  _that_ is all you have to say?!" Rhaella shrieked. She threw her arms around Jorah and pressed her face into his neck. "We only met twice, Ser Jorah, but  _you_ were the one who blessed my future in my House, and here I stand even after the murder of the Mad King and a lifetime of subjugation to the Lannisters. It's a miracle I'm still alive." 

Jorah laughed quietly and gripped her hands in his own. "I always knew you were born for such a time as this. You were never a real Lady, nor had the look of a Warrior.." His eyes flickered up and down her form. The armor, the sword, the dagger. "I think I was always impressed at how you were just  _you._ You didn't want to be like your father or the ones before him. You wanted to be better." 

"And I am." 

His smile widened into a grin. "And you  _are."_

***

After changing out of her armor, Rhaella joined Jorah in the map room where Daenerys sat with Jon. She'd left Blackfyre in her chambers with her armor and dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, her boots laced up to just below Keeper's scabbard at her thigh. 

"I thought Arya was dead. I thought  _Bran_ was dead." Jon said as he laid the scroll on the table. 

"I'm happy for you." Daenerys replied as Rhaella took a seat at the open chair beside her. "It's nice to know your siblings are alive out there somewhere and waiting to see you again." The two sisters glanced at each other through their peripheral vision. "But you don't look happy."

"Bran saw The Night King and his army marching towards Eastwatch. If they make it past The Wall-" 

"But The Wall has kept them out for thousands of years!" Varys interjected. 

"I need to go  _home._ " 

"You said you don't have enough men." Daenerys replied shortly. 

"We'll fight with the men we have." Jon shot back. "Unless, of course, you'll join us." 

Tyrions eyes shifted back and forth between the two sisters. Despite their obvious difference of opinions and their physical appearances, there was still so much about them that was the same. "And give the country to Cersei?" She asked. "As soon as I march away, she marches in." 

"Perhaps not." Tyrion said. "Cersei thinks that the Army of the Dead is nothing but a story. What if we prove her  _wrong?_ " 

That seemed to catch Rhaellas attention. "Okay, favorite Lannister." She replied. "How do you propose we do that? It's not exactly  _easy_ to obtain a wight, or a White Walker. Do you want to bring the dead to her?" 

His eyes glimmered beneath the torch light. "Precisely." 

Rhaella snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're insane." 

"We don't have to bring the whole army, Rhaella." Tyrion argued. "We only need one soldier for Cersei to realize what we're facing." 

The Onion Knight had said very little during this exchange. Rhaella had barely spoken to him since he had arrived with Jon at White Harbor, but it seemed that he was plenty intelligent enough to contribute his opinion. "Is that even possible?" He asked. 

"The first wight I ever saw was brought into Castle Black from beyond the wall." Jon said. 

"So bring one of these things back to King's Landing and show her the truth!" 

"The problem with that, Tyrion." Rhaella replied. "Is that your  _sweet_ sister won't grant us an audience to be able to show her the truth. There's also the small issue of convincing her to not murder us when we set foot into the Capital." 

"The only person she listens to is Jaime." His eyes narrowed in realization as they settled on Rhaella. Ironically enough, the older Targaryen seemed to be thinking the exact same thing he was. It was fortunate he didn't say it out loud. "He might listen to me." 

Daenerys looked on exasperatedly. "And how would you get into King's Landing?" 

"I'll smuggle him and the Princess in." Ser Davos replied. Daenerys guffawed as Rhaella nodded in confirmation. "But if the Gold Cloaks were to  _recognize_ you... I'm warning you, I'm not a fighter." 

Rhaella smiled. "Lucky for us, Ser Davos, I am." She replied. "I'll accompany Lord Tyrion as his guardian into the Capital to meet with Ser Jaime. It'll ensure his safety and have a second pair of ears to ensure we're confirmed the audience we need with Cersei." She turned her head to look at her baffled sister, who was surely looking to fabricate some type of argument. "And no, you can't convince me otherwise. Sorry." 

Dany shrugged and moved on. That was one of the things she knew about Targaryens; That they happened to be  _incredibly_ stubborn. "This is all for nothing if we don't have one of these dead men." She said pointedly. 

"With the Queen's permission, I'll go North and take one." Both Targaryens snapped over to their sworn sword who had been silent until this point. Daenerys had quietly informed her of Jorah's battle with the greyscale upon re-entering the Keep, and neither of them were about to allow their protector to risk his life so soon and so suddenly. "You asked me to find a cure so I could serve you. Allow me to serve you,  _both_ of you." 

"The Free Folk will help us. They know the real North better then anyone." 

Ser Davos shook his head. "They won't follow Ser Jorah." He replied. 

"They won't have to." 

All available eyes turned to the King in the North. "Forgive me, Jon." Rhaella spoke. "But you can't lead a raid beyond The Wall. I may be no expert in matters such as these, but you're The King in the North. You have a duty to Winterfell." 

"I'm the only one here who has fought them, the only one here who  _knows_ them."

Rhaella watched the shock flicker through Daenerys' eyes before she regained her composure and shifted into her mask of stoicism. "I haven't given you permission to leave." She remarked. 

"With all due respect, Your Grace. I don't need your permission. I  _am_ a King." Rhaella resisted the urge to allow her jaw to fall at how brazen Jon Snow was. "I came here believing you could have your men behead me or your dragons burn me alive. I put my trust in you. I put my trust in you, a stranger, because I knew it was the best chance for my people. For all our people. Now I'm asking you to trust in a stranger because it's our best chance." 

A moment passed. 

Daenerys nodded. 

And as Rhaella watched her sisters gaze follow Jon Snow's exit from the room, that was when she realized The Dragon Queen cared far more for The King in the North then she had believed. 

***

As promised, Davos left Rhaella and Tyrion at the shores hugging the cliffs on the opposite side of King's Landing. Tyrion lead the way into the basement of the Red Keep, remaining silent most of the trip until they were just outside the open archway that would lead them straight to Jaime. 

"Does he know?" He asked it softly enough that she almost didn't hear him. "That you saved him from the dragon fire?" 

Rhaella adjusted her armor and laid her hand against Blackfyre's hilt. "Probably." She replied. The two looked at one another, and she winced at the recognition of pity in his eyes. "Doesn't matter now. He's made his choice." Blue eyes surveyed the artifacts and treasures of Kings long gone and civilizations past as they ventured into the dark and came upon the hall of dragon skulls. "Oh.." She breathed a sigh of awe at the sight of Balerion, despite the fact that half his eye was missing. "I loved these as a child. I almost forgot what they looked like." 

"Remain here." Tyrion murmured, brushing past her to follow the torch light that came from further down the hall. Rhaella leaned against the skull and listened for the sound of voices until Tyrion brought Jaime just within earshot. "I needed to see you and I knew you'd never agree to meet." Silence. Rhaella expected Jaime was experiencing a lot of internal conflict. "You made me look like a complete fool. I thought we'd surprise you by hitting Casterly Rock, but you were three steps ahead of me. Abandoned the family home... completely unsentimental. Father would've been proud." 

" _Don't talk about our father."_

"Listen to me-" 

"I once told Bronn that if I ever saw you again, I'd split you in two." Rhaella took that as her cue to emerge from behind the skull, and Jaime's eyes snapped up at the sound. She watched several things happen then. The way he recoiled, the look of disbelief in his eyes, the anguish in his expression. There was so much conflict, so much doubt, so much resentment towards their circumstances. 

"That'd be hard to do with me here." She winked at the sight of tears in his eyes. "Careful, Lannister. You're bordering on sentimental." 

The nostalgia and heart behind her words made him want to fall at her knees and weep. Bronn had said he'd come close to saving him from Drogon, but someone had beaten him to it. Jaime had believed himself to have dreamt the sight of blue eyes that mirrored the North. He didn't think she'd  _actually_ gone as far as to save him from his worst nightmare: death by dragon fire. 

"It was you." He breathed. Rhaella rose an eyebrow as she watched his shoulders sag, and he ran his hands over his face. "At the river, on the Golden Road... It was  _you_ who saved me from Drogon."

She wasn't about to lie to him. Too much of their lives had been built on lies. He had been the one to convince her to stop  _living_ a lie... why would she tell him one now? When they were here, in front of each other, and safe for the first and probably the only time in this war? 

"Yeah. I did." Rhaella rose her eyes to meet his own. Green. So green. So..  _Jaime._ "Because I get to be a little bit selfish every decade or two, and I thought letting you die by the very thing you fear was cruel. So yes, I did." 

"Jaime," Tyrion interjected quietly. "Father tried to execute me for something I didn't commit. He knew I was innocent. He didn't hate me because of anything I did, he hated me because of what I  _am._ A little monster sent to punish him." Jaime's eyes fell to the ground. "Did-Did he think I wanted to be born this way? Did he think I chose-" 

"What do you  _want?!_ " 

"Daenerys will win this war." Tyrion said. "You're a military man. You must know there's no way around that. Daenerys is  _not_ her father." His eyes met hers then. Jaime was one of the few people alive besides Rhaella who knew the true nature of The Mad King. Looking to her was meant to be a confirmation of what Tyrion believed to be true. When Rhaella didn't shake her head, his stomach flipped and twisted at the thought of Aerys Targaryen being reincarnated into his youngest daughter, one out to wreak havoc with fire and blood. A dynasty built on streets bathed by the blood of innocents. "She's even willing to suspend hostilities if Cersei agrees to certain terms." 

"If you want Cersei to bend the knee, you can ask her yourself."

Tyrion shook his head. "I don't." He said. "Daenerys doesn't. Not right now, anyway. She has a more important request." 

Tyrion left Jaime with the news about Jon's trip North, The Army of the Dead, the search for a wight to convince Cersei that she needed to send her forces North if the entirety of Westeros was to survive. He was expecting to leave promptly afterward, but it seemed Jaime had other ideas. 

"Tyrion, could you give us a minute?" Jaime asked quietly. Tyrion nodded, quietly urging her towards the door for a quick getaway after they were done talking. "Your note, at Riverrun. I've kept it in Widow's Wails scabbard since the day you took off. Why-" He swallowed the bile in his throat. "Why did you leave?" 

This was it. 

_Duty is the death of love._

Cold blue eyes met his own, and Jaimes breath caught in his throat. The last time she'd looked at him like that was when he'd killed Aerys and she had seen the entire thing happen before her very eyes. "Because I  _heard_ what you said to Edmure about Cersei. About how she needs you, about how you're taking Riverrun to return to her. Like Cersei hasn't manipulated and abused and  _slandered_ you since you were ten-and-seven!" Jaime watched silently as she paced the area in front of Balerion the Dread. "I just-I cannot comprehend  _why_ you think you deserve so little, Jaime! Why every time something gets hard, or God forbid you're forced to face how you feel, you run back to the one person who makes you feel everything you hate about yourself." 

She was inches in front of him. Jaime was terrified. Terrified of losing her, of loving her, of her leaving him. 

But this was what was best. She could do better. She would. 

"I hate you." Rhaella said. She sounded so confident, like it didn't break her heart and down into the core of her very being to see the way his face crumpled when she said it. "I really do. I can't help it. I can't  _help_ the way I feel about you. At last, the might Kingslayer is broken by the hatred The Dragon Princess harbors for him-" 

"I've heard all of this before." He spat. "I've heard all of this before. You can say you hate me all you want, but I  _don't_ believe you." 

"Oh, but I do. I hate you," Rhaella paused as her hand wrapped around the hilt of Blackfyre. The symbol of House Targaryen. "I hate you, and I love you. Because I can't help it, I can't  _help_ the years worth of longing and unrequited love I've been forced to keep silent because of your  _sister._ I just want you to know something, Jaime. Right here. Right now." If he extended his hand, Jaime could've wrapped it around her hip and brought her right to him. Brought her home. "When this war is over, and Daenerys has won, I'm going to be the one to kill Cersei. I'm going to take my sword and shove it through her heart, and she's going to die at the foot of the Iron Throne just like Aerys did. Just like when you killed your King." 

She stepped away from him and moved towards the exit. 

"You want to be named Queenslayer?" 

Rhaella smirked and glanced at him over her shoulder. 

"The Queenslayer and the Kingslayer. Murdering their respected rulers at the foot of the Throne.'' She said dreamily. "Poetic justice,  _don't you think?_ " 


	32. Cersei Vs. Daenerys

While Greyworm and the Unsullied were away taking Casterly Rock from the Lannisters, Rhaella remained with Tyrion and Daenerys housed inside of Dragonstone. The only problem with now actively being a part of the war effort on Daenerys’ part was that she was growing restless to leave the island and take The Red Keep back from Cersei. 

Then Viserion died in the North, and Dany was angry. Angry, fearful, heartbroken.. like any mother would be at the loss of her son. Rhaella had tried to comfort her that night, but Daenerys would not have it. She was too busy mourning.

Rhaella only hoped her grief would not turn to rage. 

The wish to leave Dragonstone came true when Tyrion told her they, along with Jon Snow and Ser Davos, were sailing from White Harbor to King’s Landing to have their confrontation with Cersei and Jaime. The only part of the excursion she was looking forward to was seeing Brienne, who Jon had informed her would be attending the summit in place of Sansa who had remained in the North. 

 “How many people live here?” Jon asked as he motioned to King’s Landing. 

  “A million.” Tyrion replied. Rhaella shifted in her armor, gifted to her by Dany, as her eyes swept across the harbors of King’s Landing. She had planned on never returning as long as the Lannisters reigned, but it seemed fate had other plans. “Give or take.” 

 “That’s more people crammed into that city then there is in the entire North.” He was silent for a minute. “Who would want to live like that?” 

Her expression went pensive. 

“Some of us don’t have a choice, Jon Snow.” 

 “There’s more work in the city.” Tyrion interjected. “And the brothels are far superior.” 

Missandei smirked as Rhaella rolled her eyes so hard she swore she could see the whites behind them. “Remember all the times I said _you_ were my favorite Lannister?” She asked, to which Tyrion nodded. “I take every single one of those back. Every single one for each time you stepped into a brothel.” 

Rhaella followed closely beside Jorah as their group was lead to the Dragon Pits in King’s Landing. She hadn’t been allowed in this area much as a child, but her Septa had spent alot of time teaching her the history of the Targaryens and their dragons who had been _in_ this very building. Her favorite had been Visenya and Vhagar. 

  “Why did they build it?” She heard Missandei ask Jorah. 

   “Dragons don’t know the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t.” He kept his eyes set on the path before them. “Land, livestock, children. Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.” 

  “I imagine it was a sad joke at the end.” Tyrion interjected. “An entire arena for a few sickly creatures smaller then dogs. In the beginning when it was home to Balerion The Dread, it must’ve been the most dangerous place in the world.” 

   “Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor.” Multiple pairs of eyes turned to The Dragon Princess as she gazed upon the ruins that had held the beginning of the end of her House. However, unlike her sister, there was no anger or fury. Only sadness. “A dragon is not a slave.” 

The sound of marching caught her attention. Rhaella lifted her head and rested her hand against the hilt of Blackfyre at the sight of Lannister soldiers. At their head stood Bronn, who looked rather smug about the entire ordeal of _leading_ a group of soldiers as their commander. That wasn’t what made her breath catch, though. 

In the midst of that group of soldiers was a tall, brutish woman, blonde hair sticking out through the scarlet and gold armor that surrounded her. Rhaella nearly stopped in her tracks at the sight of such an achingly familiar face. _Brienne._

Of course, Brienne spotted her too. It was hard to not seek out the woman who had been through hell and back with you in the face of rapers and murderers, the man who sacrificed his reputation to save you both, and a backpacking trip across the country. 

“ _Brienne.”_

  “You know her?” Jorah asked quietly. “Surprising, given that she’s of House Tarth.” 

Rhaella gently nudged his side with her arm as she watched Tyrion approach Podrick. There’d be plenty of time for reminiscing later. “We, um…” She faltered, rubbing her hand against the back of her neck. Jorah quirked an eyebrow at her obvious discomfort. “Let’s say we had allegiances with the Kingslayer and made a vow to Catelyn Stark to take him back to the Capital in exchange for the Stark girls. That didn’t go over so well. I have not seen her for quite some time.” 

“They say she’s a woman of honor.” 

  “And what do they say about me, Ser Jorah?” 

There was something in his gaze she didn’t often see. Something soft, something _tender,_ a look that was only shown by someone who respected and admired her. “They call you legendary.” He replied. “The kind of woman they write songs about. That is, at least, what your sister has reiterated to me. You have quite a reputation.” 

She opened her mouth to reply but was halted by the sheer _majesty_ of the Dragon Pit, which was even larger then she remembered. The Lannisters and Targaryens split into two groups, one of them walking towards the tent in which the highborns would sit, and the soldiers fanning out into a circular formation to cover the width of the arena. 

Rhaella stood beside Dany’s chair, as she always did. 

Brienne caught her wandering gaze and motioned with a flick of her head towards the mouth of the Dragon Pit where Cersei Lannister was entering with Gregor Clegane at her side. The last time Rhaella had seen Cersei, she had flaunted her figure and beauty to every person she came into contact with because that was what she did as the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms. It seemed that her Walk of Shame had changed her viewpoint on modesty, for she now wore a high black dress that began just beneath her chin and swept down to just below the ankle. Silver plates covered her shoulders. 

_I should wear the armor._

It seemed that the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms had gotten her wish. 

Anger burned deep within her at the sight of Jaime, who was wearing his father’s old Lannister armor at the side of his sister, both of which stepped into their tent in unison before seating themselves parallel to the Targaryen tent. 

She saw the way he looked at Brienne. The defiance in his gaze, the pride. It mirrored the same Jaime who had ignored her for years, who had taunted and mocked Brienne in the face of everything she feared. The Jaime she hated. 

Cersei’s cold tone cut through the silence. “ _Rhaella,_ ” She said. “Where is she?” 

Rhaella furrowed her brow. She’d spent so many years taking the mocking and scornful tone of Cersei Lannister. The cold words and the contemptuous smirks. She was done with it, done succumbing to it, done allowing Cersei to make her feel small. “She’ll be here soon, _Your Grace._ ” She snapped in reply. 

“She didn’t travel with you?” 

  “No.” 

Uncomfortable silence settled until the roar of a dragon broke it, causing Jaime's eyes to snap upward at the approach of Drogon. The beast was a thing to be feared, he’d give Daenerys that. She knew how to use the fear of the people to her benefit. 

Rhaella stared up at the sky in awe as Rhaegal followed behind his brother, landing on the opposite side of the Pit and letting out a mighty roar that shook the ground beneath their feet. _Gods,_ she loved that dragon. 

Daenerys slid off Drogon with ease and walked up the steps to join her sister. The two women looked on in silence as they waited for someone to begin speaking of the ongoing predicament in the North. 

“We’ve been here for some time.” 

  “My apologies.” Daenerys replied. She looked over to her Hand, who nodded in return and stood to his feet to begin talking when the man sitting opposite Cersei interrupted him. She wasn’t keenly aware of those who resided in the Iron Islands, albeit Theon Greyjoy who had introduced himself to her upon his arrival to Dragonstone. He’d told her little about his uncle Euron who now supposedly ruled over his home and hailed Cersei his Queen. 

  “Theon!” Euron called out. “I have your sister. If you don’t submit to me here now, I’ll kill her.” 

Tyrion furrowed his brow in confusion. “I think we ought to begin with larger concerns.” He stated. 

“Then why are you talking?” Euron snapped. “You’re the smallest one here.” 

Brienne smirked as she watched Rhaella roll her eyes, fingers tightly clasping the back of Daenerys’ chair as she watched the scene unfold. “Do you remember when we discussed dwarf jokes?” Tyrion asked Theon, to which he nodded. 

“His wasn’t even good.” 

  “He explained it at the end. Never explain it. It always ruins it.” 

Daenerys saw her sister’s hand go for the hilt of her dagger and reached behind her to lay her hand on top of Rhaellas. “ _Please._ ” She said lowly. “Not now.” 

Rhaella nodded and remained silent. 

“We kill your kind in the Iron Islands. We kill you at birth. An act of mercy for the parents.” 

This entire conversation was eerily reminiscent of all the times she’d spent defending Tyrion against Cersei during the summers she’d come to visit the Lannisters at Casterly Rock as a child, before Tywin and her father had split apart. 

  “Perhaps you ought to sit down.” Jaime's voice called out. 

  “Why?” 

  “Sit down or _leave._ ” Cersei demanded. 

Tyrion moved out to the floor to begin speaking again. “We’re a group of people who very clearly don’t like each other.” He said. “As this recent demonstration has shown. We have suffered at each others hands, we’ve lost people we _love_ at each others hands. If all we wanted was more of the same, there’d be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face to face.” 

“Instead we should settle our differences and live together in harmony for the rest of our days?” 

Tyrion shook his head. “You know that’ll never happen.” 

Jon Snow emerged from his seat and took his place beside Tyrion. “This isn’t about living in harmony.” He said. “It’s just about living. The same thing is coming for all of us. A general you can’t negotiate with, an army that doesn’t leave corpses behind on the battlefield. Lord Tyrion and Lady Rhaella tell me a million people live in the city. They’re about to become a million more soldiers in the Army of the Dead.” 

 “I can imagine for most of them it would be an improvement.” Cersei replied. As always, thinking about herself and Jaime over the people she was _ruling._ A selfish, cruel, narcissistic Queen on the Iron Throne was one who would eventually bring her people to their knees, begging and pleading for the one thing she wouldn’t give them simply because they were beneath her. 

A better life. 

  “This is serious.” Jon said grimly. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t.” 

  “I don’t think it’s serious at all. I think it’s another bad joke. If my brother Jaime has informed me correctly, you’re asking for a truce.” 

  “Yes.” Dany replied. “That’s all.” 

  “That’s all?” Cersei asked. “Pull back my armies and stand down while you go on your monster hunt? Or while you solidify and expand your position, it’s hard for me to know which it is with my armies pulled back. Then you return and march on _my_ Capital with four times the men.” 

“Your Capital will be safe until the Northern threat is dealt with. You have my word.” 

  “ _The word of a would be usurper.”_

Rhaella threw her hands up and stepped out from behind Daenerys. “Okay, I’m done with this. I'm done with niceties.” Tyrion and Jon snapped in her direction as she stepped down from the dais and stood before Cersei and Jaime. “Usurper or not. You can deny it all you want, _Your Grace,_ but if you do.. you won’t have a Kingdom to rule over.” Her tone became dark, deathly serious of the consequences in store. “You’ll have ashes, the ghost of the throne, and a graveyard full of subjects. Convenient given that almost _all_ of the Lannisters are in exactly that. A graveyard.” She leaned forward despite the snarl Cersei gave her. Daenerys admired how little fear Rhaella showed in front of the Mother of Madness. “Do you believe _me_? The word of your former servant? A Lannister loyalist, forced to subjugate because otherwise I’d have been killed? Do you believe me _now?_ ” 

Cersei’s eyes flashed at the insinuation. Daenerys saw it, Tyrion saw it, Jon Snow saw it. One of the only perks to being the sister of Daenerys Targaryen was the fact that she’d spent her entire life around Jaime and Cersei. She knew Jaime as one was intimately familiar with those they cared about, but the sharp words and silver tongue was something she’d learned from Cersei after years of taking her words to heart. 

Thankfully, Tyrion knew how to work with tension. 

  “There is no conversation that will erase the last fifty years.” He said. “We have something to show you. What Lady Rhaella just spoke of… maybe you’ll believe her now.” Tyrion motioned to the staircase that lead to beneath The Dragon Pit which housed the stalls they’d used for the smaller dragons. Sandor Clegane emerged just then, carrying a large crate across his broad shoulders. 

He unlatched the locks and threw the metal piece onto the ground, anxiously waiting for the creature inside to emerge. Rhaella kept her hand on the hilt of her sword as Clegane kicked the crate over, and a creature from the deepest pit of the Seven Hells emerged. 

She saw it then. Something she hadn’t seen in Cersei since that cell. 

_Fear._

Sandor Clegane cut the creature from hip to hip. Ser Davos lit a flint and Jon took it from him, lighting the discarded hand of the Wight. “We can destroy them by burning them.” He stated. “Or we can destroy them with dragon glass.” He held up the crudely fashioned weapon. “If we don’t win this fight, then that is the fate of every person in the world.” Jon pointed to the wight. “There is only one war that matters. The Great War, and it is _here._ Now.” 

  “I didn’t believe it until I saw them.” Daenerys used the opportunity to speak in the face of Cersei’s utter disbelief and Jaimes reluctance to accept the truth. “I saw them all.” 

 “How many?” Jaime asked. 

  “A hundred thousand, at least.” 

The younger Lannister twin paled. 

Euron Greyjoy rose from his seat and padded over to the dead creature, feeling the material of coarse hair between his fingers. “Can they swim?” 

“No.” 

He swallowed the knot in his throat. “Good,” He replied. “Because I’m taking my fleet back to the Iron Islands. I’ve been around the world, I’ve seen _alot.._ but nothing compares to that. _That_ terrifies me.” The Dothraki stood to attention alongside Ser Jorah as Euron approached Daenerys who bristled in front of the older man. “I’m going back to my island. You should go back to yours. When winter is over.. we’ll be the only ones left.” 

  “He’s right to be afraid,” Cersei announced as Euron left The Dragon Pit. “And a coward to run. If those things come for us, there’ll be no Kingdoms to rule.” Cold green eyes swept across each face until they fell on Rhaella, and the elder Targaryen shivered as she realized Cersei had actually _listened_ to what she had said. “Everything we’ve suffered will have been for nothing. Everything we lost… It will have been for nothing.” 

She shifted her gaze to Jaime. Jaime with his piercing eyes and the sorrow that lingered behind the stoic facade he often wore around his sister. He was staring right at her, and she knew they were both thinking about Myrcella and Tommen and how they’d died too soon. 

  “The Crown accepts your truce.” Rhaella could see the relief passing through the faces of the comrades who stood around her, but this just seemed _too_ easy - “Until the dead are defeated, they are the true enemy. In return, The King in the North will extend this truce. He will remain in the North where he belongs and will not take up arms against the Lannisters. He will _not_ choose sides.” 

Rhaella furrowed her brow. This was too easy. She wanted to leave Daenerys wide open and vulnerable so no one would take her crown. 

  “Just The King in the North?” Dany asked. “Not me?” 

  “I’d never ask it of you.” Cersei snarled, venom dripping from her tone. “I’d never ask it of you or your traitorous sister, and if you both agreed to it I’d trust you even less then I do right now. I ask it only of Ned Stark’s son because I _know_ that Ned Stark’s son will be true to his word.” 

Jon was silent as his gaze swept from Ser Davos, his Hand in the North, to Daenerys. HIs current position versus his loyalty to the crown and to his Queen. 

  “I am true to my word.” He said. “Or I try to be.  That is why I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two Queens. I have already pledged myself to Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen.” 

Rhaella cursed in Valyrian under her breath. 

 “Then there is nothing left to discuss.” Brienne caught her urgent gaze as Rhaellas eyes flickered to Jaime. He was their only hope of anyone being able to get through to Cersei on the matter.  “The dead will come north first, enjoy dealing with them. We will deal with whatever is left of you.” 

Jorah grabbed her hand, refraining her from chasing after Jaime and Brienne. 

 “ _Don’t.”_ He warned. “If you do, The Queen will see your obvious affections for her brother and things will get much, much worse.” She fought against his grasps while watching Jaime and Brienne converse, and how his eyes flickered over Brienne’s shoulder before he turned to follow Cersei back to the Red Keep. 

***

Brienne urged her to the other side of the Pit as soon as Tyrion went to talk to Cersei. She’d only received Rhaella’s letter in the moments since the youngest Lannister had left, reading over what she’d said about the Battle of the Gold Road and risking her life to save Jaimes. 

It wasn’t hard to see the longing lingering in hardened eyes as she argued for their survival, for his assistance in getting through to Cersei so she’d help the Northern war effort. She’d seen his conflict and she’d seen his sadness, and she’d ran with it. 

  “What are you not saying in this letter?” Brienne asked as she held the parchment between her fingers. “It might have been quite some time since we’ve spoke, My Lady-“ 

  “Bree.” The nickname sent an ache through her heart as The Dragon Princess rested her hand on her shoulder. Brienne had never found herself comfortable with touch unless it was from Selwyn, her father and the Evenstar of Tarth. It had been some time since she had seen him, and no one would dare to touch The Maid of Tarth. “We’re past formalities now. I don’t care if I was Rhaella Mormont when we met at Jaime’s cell. I’m still the same person, just with a different surname and different armor.” She twirled around in her newly fashioned armor, a far cry from what her brother had made for her.  “I’m Rhaella. Just Rhaella.” 

  “Okay, Rhaella.” She replied. “Tell me what you aren’t saying in this letter. What really happened with Ser Jaime? I haven’t seen him look at you like that since you took care of him in the forest after The Mummers. He’s utterly infatuated, but-“

”But what?”   
 

“He’s denying himself what he wants.” Brienne said it so simply, so truthfully, almost as if she knew it from experience. She had seen enough of the way Jaime acted around Rhaella when he’d been wounded in the forest. How soft she’d been with him, how vulnerable he allowed himself to be with her. “Denying himself the ability to... feel.”

  “Good job, Brienne. You just described his entire life.” Rhaella sighed as she leaned against the wall. “Tywin never let his kids feel things. Why do you think the world has made Cersei hard? They weren’t allowed to mourn their mother, so she took her feelings and directed them at Tyrion. He’s been made the fault of Joanna Lannisters death since birth.” 

Her breath caught. 

  “The poor man..” 

  “Jaime is looking for something he’s been deprived of since his mother died. Love. He’s looking for love in the wrong places, so he gives where he can because he thinks he’ll get something in return.” Brienne watched as Rhaella unsheathed Keeper and turned the dagger over in her hands.  Cersei is a taker. She took the Iron Throne, she took a chance at obtaining the power she has so desperately craved since Robert Baratheon was her husband and failed at being a ruler for the people of Westeros and the father to her children. How do you learn to love someone when all they keep taking is what you have to give? If they keep taking, and you keep giving without them giving it back.. It just leaves you empty.” Her eyes followed the path Jaime had left in his exit from the Dragon Pit. “And that’s what he is. Empty.” 

  “There’s more to it though. Something else you aren’t saying.” 

She huffed through her nose and looked at Brienne exasperatedly. “You just don’t quit, do you?” Rhaella asked, laughing quietly when Brienne nodded. “You might be the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, you know.” 

  “It’s one of my better qualities.”   
   
“I went with Tyrion to arrange this entire thing with Jaime. We had a minute alone, and I.. uh…” 

Brienne knew that look. 

  “You threatened someone, didn’t you? Was it him, or her?”   
  
Rhaella ran her hands over her face. “I told him I hated him and if the opportunity arose, I was going to be the one to kill Cersei.” Conflicted blue eyes met her own as she sighed deeply. “One of them is a lie.” 

Brienne was taken aback. Rhaella had never been one to admit that she liked killing, but that she only did it out of necessity. It was another one of the multiple ways that she differed from Daenerys. “You’d name yourself Queenslayer?” She whispered, fearful that someone would hear them. 

  “I would. I’m tired of her taking everything from me. My home.” Her eyes swept upward to the massive architecture of The Red Keep, standing out like the spires to Heaven against the cloudless sky. “ _My_ Jaime. My people. The crown.”  

She noticed that Rhaella hadn’t placed my with the crown she seemed to be giving to Daenerys without so much as an argument. 

“Does Daenerys know?” 

“That I’m in love with Jaime?” Rhaella shook her head. “No. I’m trying to keep it that way because if she finds out I’m in love with the man who killed Aerys, she’ll kill him.” 

“And you won’t let that happen?” Brienne asked.   
  
Rhaella nodded firmly. “I won’t.” She said. Brienne was suddenly reminded of the things Jaime had told her about how he’d sacrificed everything he stood for as a Kingsguard to save the life of a silver-haired girl who had accepted him wholly for who he was, not for who he’d been made into by the white cloak.   
 

“You know who you sound like?” Brienne asked. She leaned down to whisper in Rhaella’s ear as they watched Tyrion re-enter the Dragon Pit, Cersei and Jaime hot on his heels with the Queensguard. “You sound familiar, like a Lannister I know. A selfish, honorable man who cared too much about you to let you die at his hand. So in return, he sacrificed everything he knew to save your life.” 

The Queen of Westeros eyed the two women furthest away from the crowd gathered in the center of the Dragon Pit. Cersei had always been good at reading people. She knew how to read peoples expressions and their intentions without so much as a word. That was how she knew that Jaime cared for them both far more then he'd ever admit. 

And  _that_ , she wasn't okay with. 

Cersei folded her hands over her abdomen. "My armies will not stand down." She announced. "I will not pull them back to the Capital. I will march them North to fight alongside you in the Great War. The darkness is coming for us all... we will face it together. When The Great War is over, perhaps you'll remember I chose to  _help_ with no promises or assurances from any of you." Silence hung between the Targaryens and Starks who stood before her. Rhaella was the only one daring enough to meet her eyes - those same eyes that she found hateful - as she turned her head over her shoulder. "Call on our banners. All of them." 

****  
"Princess, if your sister will not fly to Winterfell, I'd advise you to do so." Jorah said as they all stood reconvened in the map room at Dragonstone. 

Daenerys caught her by surprise as she nodded in reply. "I agree." She said. "It would be better for Lady Sansa to receive us with someone she is more familiar with, as opposed to someone she is not. You will fly to Winterfell alone. Jon says there's vast plains for Rhaegal before the castle, and that you'll be given the best accommodations for yourself and for him. He will be fed and taken care of." 

"Yes." Jon acknowledged. "She will." 

"What about my servants? Alice and Ada?" Rhaella asked. "With all due respect, sister, I do not feel comfortable leaving them here with whatever Dothraki or Unsullied you leave to guard the Keep from the Lannisters, should they retaliate. They are barely women grown. I prefer they remain that way." 

Daenerys nodded. Even in such a short time, she'd come to respect her sister's heart for people and wished to keep her allegiances. "Very well. They will accompany myself and Jon to Winterfell as my handmaidens." Daenerys said. 

"Thank you, sweet sister." 

Rhaella bowed her head and left the room to begin packing her things for the journey north. After gathering her things into the appropriate bags, she eyed the display on the wall. 

Keeper was closest to her. Freshly polished and sharpened, the ruby eyes of the dragon hilt glimmering like fresh blood in the dimming firelight. 

Blackfyre laid on the bed. Her newest weapon, her  _best_ weapon, the one that held the legacy of House Targaryen in its blade. Valyrian steel. There was nothing more beautiful. 

_Duty.. or love?_

"Foolish woman." She grumbled, slipping Keeper inside of her boot and Blackfyre into its scabbard before calling on Alice to fasten the clasps of her armor that Rhaegar had fitted for her as a young woman. Daenerys' armor would not do for the Great War, and so she had stored it away in the trunk at the foot of her bed and had settled for the Northern clothes she'd been gifted with instead. "Too sentimental. Too much heart." 

Daenerys and Jorah bid her farewell. When she looked over her shoulder to the cliffs where Rhaegal and Drogon often slept, the twin sisters were watching her with tears in their eyes. 

***

Cersei emerged from Maegor's Holdfast in search of Jaime, who was standing with the high command of the Lannister army in the map room to discuss the preparations being made to move North. 

"What are you doing?" She asked. It was a simple enough question, one she thought Jaime smart enough to be able to answer the way she wanted. 

"Preparing the expedition North." He replied. Cersei furrowed her brow. Maybe he really was the stupidest Lannister. 

"Preparing the expedition North? Oh.." She clucked her tongue in a way that made Jaime freeze, that same distasteful sound that often conveyed disappointment. "I always knew you were the stupidest Lannister." He watched as she crossed the room, ever the graceful. "The Starks and Targaryens have united against us and you want to fight alongside them? Are you a traitor, or an idiot?" 

Jaime should've been used to the ridicule by now. Used to the slander, used to the mockery and her utter disgust for the person he'd become since the Bloody Mummers took his hand. He should've been used to Cersei seeing him as nothing other then a broken toy she could play with whenever she desired. 

He wasn't. 

"We pledged our forces to fight a common enemy-" 

"I'll say whatever I need to say to ensure the survival of our House." She snapped. "Do you expect me to trust the man who murdered our father? Do you expect me to command our troops to fight beside foreign scum? To fight for The Dragon Queen and her sister you seem to love  _so much_?" 

He ignored the jab about Rhaella. Now wasn't the time to get into a debate about his loyalties. "You  _saw_ it with your own eyes. You saw a dead man try to kill us!" Jaime exclaimed. 

"And I saw it burn. If dragons can't stop them, if Dothraki and Northmen and Unsullied can't stop them, how will our armies make a difference?" 

"This isn't about noble houses. This is about the  _living_ and the  _dead._ " Jaime argued. What was it going to take for her to see reason? What would it take to crack that indestructible facade, for the  _real_ woman who'd lost her children, her family and everything she'd been working for in her lifeto emerge from beneath it?

"I intend to stay amongst the living. Let the Stark boy and The Dragon Queen defend the North. We stay here where we always been." 

This was meant to test him. Meant to test his allegiances, his loyalty to his House versus his loyalty to the Targaryen girl he so obviously loved. Jaime may have been many, many things... but he was never a decent liar. 

"I made a  _promise."_

"Oh believe me, I know." Cersei said cooly. Unable to move, Jaime watched as she closed the space between the two of them and lifted her hand as if she was going to caress his face the way she often did before they ravaged each other, but her fingers swept underneath the neck of his armor and wrenched out the trinket beneath it. The gold ring clattered to the ground. Jaimes eyes burnt with fury as they snapped over to meet the same ones of his twin. "Did you  _really_ think I didn't see the way you cast looks at Rhaella at The Dragon Pit? Did you believe I wouldn't see it?" 

"See  _what?!_ " 

"Oh, you fool. It's so stupidly obvious that even the ghosts of these halls could see it." She snapped. " _You_ are in love with _Rhaella Targaryen._ What a shame, really. I spent so long making sure she would never confess her feelings for you because I believed you'd never love anyone else besides me. When the time comes, it will be my  _honor_ to kill her." Dread bubbled low in his stomach as Cersei ran her hand over her own. She was adamant that the child was his, and yet... there was no swell to her abdomen. "Our child will rule Westeros. I can't say the same for your future children with the dragon blood, and that's even if you can get hard at the sight of her. So many years dancing around each other.. and for what? To die before you're able to tell her what you really feel?" 

So this was what Rhaella had meant when she said she could never get along with Cersei. How Cersei had tormented her. She had spent  _decades_ enduring cold words from his sister and had never told him about it. 

She'd done it to protect his already fractured heart.  _They always said I was the soft hearted Targaryen._

"What Rhaella Targaryen means to  _me_ , sweet sister, is none of your concern." His tone had lost its tender touch as she defiantly lifted her chin. The longer Jaime looked at this  _thing_ that the Throne had turned his sister into, the more he was reminded of the very thing that had killed his daughter. A viper.

Lovely, lonely, lethal. All words to describe Cersei Lannister, First of Her Name, and the Mother of Madness. 

 "And as for our child, it will never be born if the dead come south." He said.  

"The monsters are real. The white walkers, the dragons, the Dothraki screamers. All the frightening stories we heard when we were young. They're all real. So be it. Let the monsters kill each other. While they battle in the North, we take back the lands that belong to us." Cersei replied. 

"And then what?" 

"Then we rule." She sounded so confident about it. Like this was the easiest thing in the world for her, abandoning and betraying her word to keep her power longer. 

"When the fighting in the North is over, someone wins. You understand that, don't you?" Jaime asked. "If the dead win, they march south and kill us all. If the living win, they march south and kill us all!"

"The Targaryens and The Starks already want to kill us all. The only reason they haven't yet is because of  _your_ Dragon Princess." Cersei replied matter-of-factly. "Most of them will die in the North." 

"I've faced them in the field! The only reason I survived The Battle of the Goldroad is because-'' He stopped himself short. No one else knew about Rhaella's honorable action to save him from Drogon. He wanted to keep it that way. Something he could cherish, cradle close to his precious memories, that Cersei couldn't touch. "We can't beat them. We can't beat their dragons!" 

"How many dragons did you see at the pit?" 

"Two." 

"What happened to the third? Rhaella said  _something_ had happened to.. Viserion. She didn't say what. Daenerys came here with her dragons, her fleet, her Dothraki and her Unsullied. She came here to show us all her power." Cersei murmured as she crossed the map room to stand near the window. "Her dragons are vulnerable." 

"We can't  _beat_ The Dothraki. We don't have the numbers or the support of the other Houses!" 

"No, we have something better. We have the Iron Bank." She looked to Jaime. He was wearing that same look of confusion he often wore when she was leading the discussion towards something he was not knowledgeable in. "Did you not listen when father spoke about the importance of gold? I know it's boring for you.  You just wanted to hunt and ride and fight, but I listened. I  _learned._ Highgarden bought us the most powerful army in Essos. The Golden Company." She took a seat in the chair. "Twenty thousand men, horses, elephants I believe." 

"The Golden Company is not here. They're in Essos. How is a mercenary company in Essos going to help us?" 

"Do you really think Euron Greyjoy turned tail and sailed back to the Iron Islands? Do you really think he'd abandon the chance to marry The Queen? No one walks away from me." 

"Yeah, well... Your Targaryen handmaiden did. May I remark, she turned into something  _glorious_ when you weren't there to challenge her every move." Jaime leaned forward and smiled smugly. "How does it feel to know your one project you spent so long trying to mold into a creature of your own being failed? How does it feel to know you've been beaten?" 

"I already told you." Cersei seethed. " _She_ will get what is coming to her. And as for Euron Greyjoy, he is sailing his fleet to Essos to ferry The Golden Company back here and win the war for Westeros." 

"You plotted with Euron Greyjoy without telling me, the commander of your armies?" Jaime could feel the tide turning in this conversation. Turning towards darkness, towards rebellion, towards leaving everything he'd ever known to fulfill the only oath he wanted to keep as long as he still lived. 

"And you conspired with Tyrion and the sister to our enemy. The man who murdered our father, without telling me. Your Queen." 

"I didn't  _conspire_ with Tyrion!" Jaime snapped. 

"You met with them in secret without my consent. You planned to promote my enemies interest." Jaime turned around towards the map room and descended the steps to retrieve the ring, ignorant of the way Cersei white knuckled the rests of the chair she sat in. "That is the definition of conspiracy." 

He held the ring up for her to see. 

"When I took this ring, I made a pledge to come back here. To come home with our daughter, who is now dead. I honored that pledge. I made it back here." He took the band off of the chain and slipped it into his scabbard. "I pledged to ride North. I intend to honor that pledge." 

"And that would be treason." She said. Her voice had dropped to a dangerous low. 

" _Treason?!"_

 _"_ Disobeying your Queen's command, fighting with her enemies... What would you call it?" 

Jaime shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I'd call it." Cersei's lips quirked upward in an amused half-smile as he turned around and came face to face with the creature who wore the body of Gregor Clegane. Fear replaced the fury coursing through his blood as he looked to her over his shoulder. "I told you no one walks away from me."

"Are you going to order him to kill me?" When she didn't answer, Jaime continued. "I am the only one you have left. Our children are gone, our father is  _gone._ " He thought of when he'd mentioned Tommen to her, and how Cersei had believed Tommen had betrayed them by taking his life. He thought about how she'd thought of nothing but herself and that Throne since she'd taken it. "It's just me and you now." 

Rhaella had been right when she said the crown had corrupted The Targaryens before her. The corruption had just spread to another House. 

His. 

"Give the order then." 

The twins stared at each other for a brief moment. Jaime knew then when Cersei gave the nod for The Mountain to unsheathe the massive sword hanging at his hip that this was it, that he would go to his grave failing to tell the woman he loved just how much he loved her and how sorry he was for not telling her sooner. For allowing his sister to manipulate and emotionally abuse her, to use her feelings against her for  _decades_ and not speak of it for his own protection. 

"I don't believe you." 

The more steps he took out of The Red Keep and towards the stables where he'd saddle his horse that would lead him North, Jaime had never felt freer in his life. 

He cast a look to the North and thought of snow. Of silver hair and blue eyes and a red hilted dagger. 

_I'm_ _coming. I'm coming to fight for you, and for the North. For a better world and for us to have a future._

_I'm coming._


	33. Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella rekindles relationships with the Starks and Jorah Mormont, and becomes widely known throughout the halls of Winterfell. 
> 
> Jaime arrives in the North without the promised armies.

The first thing she noticed when she arrived at Winterfell was how much she was despised by Arya Stark. 

Rhaella had only meet the younger Stark daughter a handful of times before her father had been killed. She was often tucked away in a spare room in the Red Keep with Syrio, a dancing master from Braavos who had been instructed to teach her the art of Braavosi swordplay. Apparently she had excelled at the task, for it was the only reason she'd survived the aftermath of her father's execution. 

"We're trusting a  _Targaryen_ now?!" Sansa had called Arya to the Great Hall almost immediately upon her arrival because, according to her guards, she'd recognized the silver hair on sight and had somehow apprehended Rhaella at the gates and dragged The Dragon Princess into Winterfell for what she'd believed to be her execution. "Even after-" 

" _She_ is not just any Targaryen, Arya." Sansa Stark snapped in reply. Rhaella hadn't bothered to fight the younger Stark daughter because of her relationship with Sansa, and she needed to begin on good terms with the Lady of Winterfell if this alliance with Daenerys and Jon was going to continue. "She was my guardian during my time in the Capital and many of the reasons why I am still alive." 

Rhaella smiled. "Lady Sansa," She greeted, grimacing under the blade of her sister's Valyrian dagger. "My, how you've grown. It is a pleasure to see you again, though I wish it was under different circumstances." 

"It is my pleasure to host you here, Lady Targaryen." Sansa gave Arya a pointed look that she imagined was meant to mean to release her, but Arya was persistent and pressed the blade deeper to the column of her neck. "Thought I know for a fact that you could easily defeat my sister, so why don't-" 

That was all the confirmation she needed to apprehend Arya in a short span of three minutes. By the time she'd won, the youngest Stark daughter was unarmed and pinned to the floor with her knee against her chest. 

"When Lady Targaryen is free of her duties, sister," Arya commented, brown eyes gleeful as Rhaella released her. "I'd like to train with her." 

Sansa nodded. "I believe we can make that happen." She replied, gesturing to the seat beside her at the High Table. "My servants are preparing to bring us dinner. Join me. We have much to talk about." 

Fortunately for her, her relationship with the Stark sisters bloomed over the course of the next several weeks that followed her arrival. Daenerys had sent her ahead of the Unsullied and the Dothraki to get in the good graces of the Lady of Winterfell, and so far it seemed to be working. 

That also meant that she caught the attention of the Northmen, many of which were not used to women owning the blade as well as she and Brienne did. 

"You know, one of the household guard has taken to you." Brienne commented. It had been nearly two months since her arrival to Winterfell, and while she and Rhaegal hadn't acclimated to the cold well, the people respected her and treated her as they did the other highborns despite the fact that she was a Targaryen and her sister wanted to take the North back as one of the Kingdoms she'd rule. "That's how the Wildling looks at me." 

"Oh, and here I'd thought Tormund made his way to one of the castles on The Wall." Rhaella replied. "I guess he's come back to  _leer_ over the big woman some more." Brienne narrowed her eyes and nudged her hard in the side, causing Rhaella to laugh as she gazed at her friend's irritated expression. "Bree, my friend. It is only natural for women like us to catch the attention of men like that." 

" _You_ are a different woman then me, Rhaella.  _You_ are beautiful. That's why Ser Jaime-" 

Rhaella stiffened. She hadn't seen or heard from Jaime since they'd seen him at The Dragon Pit all those months ago. She'd mostly forgotten about the threat she'd made towards Cersei and the way she'd told Jaime she hated him. it had to be done if they were going to take back the North. There was no fighting a war if you were more worried about watching the man you love die in the midst of it. 

" _Ser Jaime_ stayed behind with his coward of a sister." She snapped. "I should've known that Cersei would take back her promise of sending the Lannister forces here to aid in the Great War. She's been a coward since the day I met her and she will go to her grave because of her thirst for power. She wants to hold the Iron Throne. For the time being.. she will." 

"Until?"

"Until I take her off of it." 

They spent the afternoon training with Arya, who even at her young age, was thrilled to be training with The Dragon Princess and The Lady Knight who was sworn to her sister. 

When she wasn't weighed down with strategizing for the war or training with Arya and Brienne, Rhaella took to the skies and flew across the expanse of the North. She often was not gone for more then a few hours due to the bitter cold that this climate brought, but she and Rhaegal deserved the time together and the practice to perfect her dragon riding. 

She didn't miss the longing glances from the household guard Brienne had spoken about, or the way he was always offering to help her with the maintenance of her armor or her weapons. After some gentle coaxing, Rhaella persuaded him to reveal his name: Cederic. It meant  _battle chieftain_ , which she deemed rather fitting as he was the right hand man to Jon in the Northern Army. 

When Cederic was around, Rhaella forgot about Jaime. When Cederic was around, Rhaella forgot about duty and the war and remembered that  _someone_ valued her, her beauty. Even if he was a lowborn, she still would've married him just for the way he treated her as any other good husband would. 

"Rhaella!" Arya Stark shouted as the citizens of Winterfell began making their way towards the gates. "Your sister and Jon, they've arrived!" 

She turned her eyes towards Cederic and flashed a bright smile. "Try not to miss me too much, hm?" She mused. Cederic nodded eagerly and laughed as he pushed her towards the gates to greet her sister at the side of Sansa and Brienne. 

Daenerys intended to make her Princess of Dragonstone. Their ancestral Keep was going to be hers and whoever she married, if anyone would have her. She'd told Cederic about Jaime when they'd been introduced and together they'd formed a backup plan to make him jealous, should he ever appear in Winterfell. 

That was if Cersei didn't kill him first. And Jaime Lannister, he had the potential to be an  _incredibly_ jealous person. 

The roar of a dragon caught her attention, and Rhaella lifted her eyes as Drogon flew overtop the parapet and across Winterfell. Rhaegal had seen his brother and took off from the clearing where she'd been keeping him since her arrival. The North was stunned at the sight of creatures that had long since flown the skies of Westeros, but never her. They always took her breath away. 

"Look at you," Jon Snow breathed as he gripped the face of Brandon Stark in his hands. She had not known what to make of him since he'd outright told her things about her childhood that no one else knew except Jaime. He'd said he could see the past, and when she didn't believe him, Bran went on for five straight minutes about Rhaegar. That was when she'd known he was telling the truth. "You're a man." 

"Almost." 

Her eyes flickered to Daenerys and Jorah who stood silently behind him. She contemplated embracing her sister and The Old Bear, but sentiment was not why she was here rekindling relationships with the Starks. She was here on Dany's behalf, and that was it. 

"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen." Jon's voice broke her out of her trance. "This is Sansa Stark, The Lady of Winterfell and my sister." 

"Sister. Lady Stark." Dany greeted. "I hope my sister has been treating you well. Thank you for inviting us both into your home, Lady Stark. Your home is as beautiful as your brother claimed. As are you." 

Despite the smiles and the friendly manner, Rhaella knew Sansa didn't trust Daenerys, and with good reason. She wouldn't have trusted a foreign woman coming back to reclaim a throne she thought belonged to her simply because of her House name. 

"Winterfell is yours, Your Grace." Sansa replied. 

"We don't have time for all of this!" Bran exclaimed. "The Night King has your dragon." Both she and Daenerys gasped at the thought of Viserion being held hostage as a servant to the Night King's army. "The Wall has fallen. The Dead march south." 

They decided to convene a meeting of the Northern Lords and the counsel that had accompanied Daenerys in the Great Hall. Sansa divided the available resources to bring the people to Winterfell from all over the North. Tyrion eventually got up to speak to the reluctant Northerners, who seemed to relax somewhat with his reassurance that they were here to save the North. 

The youngest Lannister found her on the parapet later that afternoon. Tyrion watched on silent as cold blue eyes surveyed the rolling hills dotted with snow outside of Winterfell, fingers wound around the hilt of the dagger that had been gifted to her by his brother. Based off of what Brienne had told him since that morning, Rhaella was rather keen on forgetting Jaime existed entirely. 

He did, of course, fail to keep his promise of bringing the Lannister army to the North, as did Cersei. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. Maybe they were just taking longer to get here then anticipated.

"If you keep looking at me like that," Her voice drew him from his trance. ''I'm going to take you and toss you over this wall. It'll be quite a show for the Northerners." 

Tyrion smiled. "Oh, I believe you do enjoy having me around. I am your favorite Lannister, after all." He remarked. "But I also remember a time you threatened my brother  _and_ my sister, and somehow you can't bring yourself to get rid of that dagger because it reminds you of Jaime. Of who Jaime was  _before_ he killed his King." 

"Jaime is a thing of the past to me, Tyrion." 

Tyrion cocked an eyebrow. "That's not something I believe," He said. "You can keep telling yourself that, but at the heart of it... You love him." Blue eyes so similar to her sister snapped over to meet his own, and Tyrion found himself unable to move. "You love him and you hate that you love him because  _his_ love has always belonged to my sister, and you don't think you can ever gain it. Truth be told, Rhaella.. I think you've always had it." He extended his hand and wrapped gloved fingers around her own. "Don't give up hope on him yet. You haven't done it before, so don't start now." 

And with that, he left her on the parapet alone. The winds and chill of winter were her only company. 

****

She trained with Brienne, rode with Daenerys, sparred with Arya. The Northerners praised her and respected her. Daenerys' counsel sought her out when their Queen was preoccupied with other matters. When all was over and her duties were fulfilled, she joined Cederic in the Great Hall. He liked to hear her sing and tell stories of her time as the King's daughter. 

The tale of Jenny of Oldstones became well known within the halls of Winterfell after that. 

"Sister," Rhaella turned away from her conversation with Brienne to greet Daenerys and Jon. They'd been tasked with fortifying the battlements outside the main gates for when the dead approached that part of the Keep first. "We have an issue." 

"What's wrong?" 

"The Dothraki have said Rhaegal and Drogon have not been eating." Daenerys spoke. "The cold does not agree with them." 

Rhaella furrowed her brow. "Take Jon out to the clearing with you," She replied. "They're not acclimating to the cold well and they need to get up and out, get their blood flowing to warm themselves up. I will admit, I have not ridden him as much as I should." Rhaella smiled at the flustered Stark. "Teach the King in the North how to ride a dragon." 

" _What-"_

Daenerys grinned and dragged Jon forward to the horses, leaving her again alone with Brienne. By the time night fell, her fingers were aching and her stomach empty, so she took dinner in the Great Hall with Sansa and Arya. The two Stark daughters seemed rather keen on her stories about the days that her father reigned in King's Landing, before the Targaryen madness had taken him and killed their grandfather and uncle. 

"Our Septa taught us alot about the Targaryens." Arya commented as she shoveled stew into her mouth. "I think my favorite as a girl was Visenya. She was a great warrior." 

Rhaella rose an eyebrow as the younger Stark beamed at her. When Arya was left alone, she often floated about the Keep as if an apparition. Sansa had informed her that Arya had been trained by the Faceless Men in Braavos and had learned much of her skill by the infamous assassins. That was why she was her sworn sword when Brienne could not fulfill her duty. 

"I can see why you'd like Visenya." Rhaella gagged as the warm taste of wine flooded her mouth, and the two girls laughed as she swallowed it. Despite years having passed, it still didn't agree with her. "She was a great warrior. As are you." 

On the way to her chambers that night, Jorah intercepted her. "I was wondering if we might have a moment," He asked, to which she nodded and allowed him to lead her to the room where he and Daenerys often met to speak alone. "I need to ask something of you, Princess." 

Jorah was often stunned at how much the sisters looked alike. Even after all the time that had passed since he'd seen Rhaella Targaryen, she still shared so many similarities with Daenerys. "You can ask me anything, Ser Jorah." She said softly. "You should know that by now." 

"I do. I'm just-" He breathed a sigh of awe as they sat across from each other. "You remind me so much of your sister. It's remarkable. The similarities and the differences... You will be a great asset to her when she takes the Iron Throne." 

Rhaella frowned as she crossed her legs and leaned her weight against her elbows which were propped on her knees. "You're making it sound like you won't be there, Jorah." She said. "Which I won't let that happen. Dany needs you. She needs her sworn sword." 

"I don't think I'll survive the Long Night, Princess." Her heart crawled into her throat as The Old Bear wrung his hands anxiously. "And if that  _is_ the case, I need you to promise me that you will look out for your sister when she takes her throne and rules this country. She will need people more then ever. She'll need people like you." 

Rhaella swallowed the knot in her throat. She hadn't even given consideration to the people they'd lose during The Long Night because so much of her available time had been spent trying to find distractions that would keep her mind free of Jaime. Despite everything she involved herself in and her ''involvement'' with Cederic, he was always on the forefront of her thoughts. 

Stupid man. 

" _Jorah-"_

" _Promise_ me, Rhaella." He took her hands into his own and waited as her chin fell to her chest and her expression became hidden by a veil of silver hair. He didn't need to see it to know she was crying. " _Princess._ " Jorah took her chin in his hand ever so gently and feigned a smile as she met his gaze. "Promise me." 

All he received was a nod. That was enough. 

Jorah Mormont had never known real love. The love he'd shared with his wife had never been  _love_ , because if it had, that would've lasted. This overwhelming desire to protect and cherish the Targaryen daughters had been something held deep within his heart since their mother had brought Rhaella to Bear Island the first time. They were his family. He loved them. 

"Jorah Mormont," Her voice was hoarse as she pulled away from their embrace. "Despite the fact that you have already been named Dany's sworn sword, I'm giving you another title." He rose an eyebrow as she reached into the pocket of her cloak and produced a small Targaryen sigil made from dragon glass, a bauble she'd commissioned from Gendry earlier that week. "I name you The Dragons Protector." 

***

It took him alot longer then he wanted to arrive at Winterfell. After fleeing Cersei and The Mountain, he'd half expected to be chased the minute he was free through the gates of the Capital. Nothing happened. Maybe she'd given up on him entirely. 

_I'm coming, Rhaella._

With Widow's Wail on his hip and determination fierce in his heart, Jaime Lannister rode the 1500 miles it took to get there from King's Landing. 

_I'm coming. Forgive me._

His nights were spent in a bedroll wherever he could find flat ground to lie upon or ramshackle inns he stumbled across on the King's Road. Many of the people he met said that the armies to the Dragon Queen had passed through their territories on their march to the North to fight alongside the Starks and create a once in a lifetime alliance. 

Jaime handed the reins of his horse over to the stable boy and removed his cloak, taking the moment to gaze at Winterfell. It had been another lifetime when he'd last been here. He'd been another person, another  _man_ back then. Before the Mummers, before he'd  _really_ begun to see what his sister was turning into, and who Rhaella had grown up to be. 

_Rhaella._

Brienne was the first to recognize him. She was stunned by the fact that his hair had mostly gone grey, leaving very little of the Lannister gold she'd seen when they met last at The Dragon Pit. Cederic had been with her and Pod most of the morning rechecking the strength of the fortified battlements and the progress on the dragon-glass weapons. 

"Is that-" 

"Yes." She murmured. "Are you still knowledgable about the plan?" 

Cederic parted his hair above his brow to get a better look at Jaime Lannister. Despite his growing affection for The Dragon Princess, they both knew it would not be possible for a Targaryen to marry a man of a lesser known house. He was a Lord, a distinguished fighter, but that was it. They both seemed alright with it, and so Rhaella had told him most of what Brienne knew about her relationship with Jaime. They'd grown close enough that she confided in him more then she did most people, and so they'd devised a plan to see if the infamous  _Kingslayer_ cared for her as much as he supposedly did. 

"I am." Cederic replied. "She's in love with  _that?_ There's no Golden Lion there, Lady Brienne. All I see is grey!" 

Brienne smirked as she watched Jaime's eyes flicker across the courtyard until they landed on Brandon Stark, and all the color drained from his face. This would be the first time he'd actually have to deal with his actions of crippling the Stark boy and the conflict it would cause with the remaining members of his family when they realized he'd come. 

"He is not The Lion of Lannister anymore, Lord Cederic." Brienne said. "He is not many of the titles he has claimed over the years, but I can tell you what he is." Memories of whispered words and vomit and blood and anguish in the darkness of a forest flashed behind her eyes. A tub in the ruins of Harrenhal, a secret no one could tell, and two people who loved each other desperately. "A good man." 

***

“My Lady, someone has called you to the Godswood.” The voice of her best friends squire drew her attention away from the battle strategy, a welcome distraction as she was growing rather bored. Rhaella turned to regard Podrick Payne. He’d come into his own since Brienne had taken him from the city in search of Sansa Stark, and a swell of pride bloomed through her chest every time she saw him sparring with her best friend. There was no one finer and no one more fit to be a future Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.  “He insists its urgent.” 

Thinking it was Cederic asking for a private conversation, Rhaella asked for Daenerys' blessing to leave before she disappeared. Her feet carried her through the halls of Winterfell after Daenerys reluctantly released her, and Rhaella followed Podrick all the way out to the Godswood. After seeing Cederic in the hall she had suspected it was Bran who wanted to speak with her instead, but when she saw the greying hair and the wide green eyes, everything came back into place and the world stopped moving.

Jaime Lannister was here.

Jaime Lannister had come to _Winterfell_. He’d come North.  _Why?_

 “Jaime?” 

 


	34. The Trial for Jaime's Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime Lannister is put on trial in front of House Targaryen and House Stark.

[If you're one of the types of people who likes to listen to music while they read, this one is for you.  _Play 8 by Billie Eilish._ I think that might be one of the most perfect songs for this couple.]

Things are going to go down. Happy reading!

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was fashioned like a scene from a tale of old. The Princess and her Knight, reunited at last.. standing in a field of white before the Weirwood Tree. Part of her didn't want this to be real, she wanted to wake up and break her fast with Cederic and sing the tale of Jaime of Oldstones-

_Jenny. Jenny of Oldstones, you idiot._

This was real. He was here, in Winterfell, standing before her with that same stupid smirk he only ever reserved for when they were alone. Rhaella had almost believed that his loyalty to his family and his sister would keep him in King's Landing. So why was he  _here?_ And alone? 

"Jaime?" 

"Rhaella." He breathed. It was hard to not follow his eyes as they swept across her form - her white cloak with the ornamental dragon across the breast, the circlet fashioned perfectly on top of newly cut silver hair at the insistence of her sister. The North agreed with her, Jaime knew it to be true. "I.. you look.." 

"Careful, Lannister." She mused lightly. "You're bordering on sentimental." 

"I'm sorry." He replied. "I'm just..." Jaime ran his hands over his greying beard. He had suspected Cersei knew about his veiled affections for the eldest Targaryen daughter when she saw them lock eyes at the Dragon Pit, and again when she’d nearly set the Mountain on him for adamantly refusing to remain behind in King’s Landing when the North needed their help. The final words of Olenna Tyrell echoed in his mind, “ _She’s a disease.”_ the entire time he was on the Kings Road. He too regretted his part in allowing it to spread. "I have dreamt of this. I believed.. I believed you to hate me." 

She tried to ignore that fact. "I said what I said because I _had_ to. Even then.. I don't think I have the capacity for raw hatred anymore, not for you. I've spent too much of my life directing that at your sister." Rhaella replied. "Back to the topic.. why are you alone? Why does Cersei  _never_ keep her word?" The words were spoken much harsher then she intended them to be, and Jaime winced at the coldness in her tone. "You're alone, Jaime. Alone in enemy territory where nearly everyone wants to kill you except maybe me. Why did you abandon your family? Why did you come  _North?"_

His conversation with Brienne rang clear in his head as he took another step away from the Weirwood Tree. _See her. See her for who she is, keep your vow, love her in which you wish to be loved yourself._ "Cersei told me. She told me all of it." Her breath caught in her throat as she subconsciously began walking backward towards the Keep, oblivious to Podrick and Brienne hiding just within the door she'd come from. "Of how she tormented you all those years, made you suppress emotion you so desperately wanted to show.. Why would you not  _tell_ me?" 

"There was nothing to tell." She murmured. "'Cause who am I to be in love, when your love never is for me? It was always Cersei. Cersei Cersei  _Cersei._ The most beautiful woman in Westeros and the Mother of Madness. Who was I to battle with  _that_?" 

Jaime shook his head. "That _love_ is nonexistent now. Yes, she is my sister and yes, I do love her. Not in the way you're thinking." He exhaled slowly through his nose. "I left Cersei and came North. She tried to set the Mountain on me, and when I fled, she let me go. I think she believes I'll die up in the North fighting  _our_ war against the dead." He was close now, close enough for her to ghost her fingers over his cloak. "You once told me you don't give your heart away easily. That you are not a fool." 

Rhaella nodded. "I'm still not a fool, Lannister. If you want this heart so desperately," She held his hand in her own and squeezed it lightly. "You're going to have to earn it. Consider it making up for everything you did to me." 

That was a long list. 

"Do you believe me redeemable, My Lady?" His eyes met hers. Wide, vulnerable emeralds that never failed to pierce her very soul - _the same soul that had ached for him_ \- and asked a thousand questions in every flicker. He just wanted acceptance from the one person who had never failed to give it to him. Acceptance, security, safety... A home. A home for an aching heart. 

"There is no one finer or more worthy of redemption." She whispered. Before Rhaella could continue, someone awkwardly cleared their throat behind them and the pair turned around to face Ser Cederic. "Forgive my manners. Ser Cederic, meet Ser Jaime Lannister." 

Cederic flashed a tight-lipped smile and extended his hand, which Jaime shook immediately. There was an air about him that rang warning bells in his mind. "Pleasure, Ser." He said. "Forgive me for interrupting, but the Queen is calling all people to the Great Hall." Rhaella swallowed the knot in her throat and brushed sweaty palms against her cloak. 

"Any particular reason why?" She asked. 

"Queen Daenerys has been made aware of Ser Jaime's arrival." His eyes slowly moved from The Princess to the Kingslayer. "It is time for his trial to begin." 

***

"When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story." A pause. "About the man who murdered our father and sister. How he stabbed him in the back, and cut his throat. Watched as his blood poured onto the floor and then did the same to his daughter." Daenerys sat at the High Table along with Sansa, Bran and Jon, cold eyes narrowed in on the Lannister who stood before her. "He told me other stories as well, about all the things we'd do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasps." 

This was wrong. This was  _so_ wrong. 

"Do not move, child." Jorah whispered urgently in her ear. The night she had deemed him The Dragons Protector was also the same night he'd urged her to confess her affections for the eldest Lannister, claiming he dare not breathe a word to her sister about it. Jorah was not the type to lie to  _her_ , and so she believed him. Daenerys still knew nothing about her true relationship with Jaime.  "This is not the time."

"My sister tells me that  _your_ sister pledged to send her army North." 

Jaime nodded. "She did." 

"I don't see an army." Daenerys replied. "I see one man with one hand. It appears your sister lied to me." 

"She lied to me as well. She never had any intention of sending her army North." Dany's eyes snapped over to meet the younger Lannister who was looking more and more embarrassed the longer Jaime continued talking. "She has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and 20,000 fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos, bought and paid for. Even if we defeat the dead, she'll have more then enough to destroy the survivors." 

Daenerys gave the same expression Rhaella had when Jaime had inserted himself into the war. _We_ and  _our._ "We?" She asked.

"I promised to fight for the living. I intend to keep that promise." 

"Your Grace-" Tyrion interjected. "I know my brother." 

" _Like you knew your sister?"_

"Daenerys," Rhaella's quiet voice broke into the conversation and drew her sister's attention towards her. "Of all the people in this room, Tyrion and I have known Ser Jaime the longest. He's never lied to me before." Her eyes met his own, and she saw the relief pass through them. "He came here alone knowing every single person in Winterfell would want to kill him. Let me ask.. Why would he dare do such a thing if he were not telling the truth?" 

She almost believed Dany would listen to her. 

Almost. 

"Perhaps he trusts his lifelong friend and little brother to defend him." She snapped. "Right up until the moment he slits my throat." 

"Let us not forget,  _Daenerys,_ " Rhaella said sharply. Everyone noticed the lack of using her proper title. It meant to be cold, calculating, and sharp. "That you were lead to believe he killed me as well for your entire life, and that turned out to be false. It was him who saved my life and it was his influence on Robert Baratheon that kept me alive to this very day. That is one thing you cannot find fault in him for." 

"Hm." 

"You're right. He can't stay here." Sansa's cool voice interjected. "He attacked my father in the streets and tried to destroy my House and my family the same as he did yours." 

Jaime guffawed. "Do you want me to apologize for that?!" He exclaimed. "I won't. We were at war. Everything I did for my House and my family, I'd do it all again." 

" _The things we'd do for love."_

Brienne noticed in the midst of the silence that hung after Brandon Stark spoke how Rhaella and Jaime immediately stiffened at the words. She'd never heard them, but they seemed to be hauntingly familiar to the pair.

"So why have you abandoned your House and family now?" 

He cast a glance at Bree over his shoulder. "Because this goes beyond loyalty." Jaime said quietly. "This is about survival."

"Your Grace," She called out, pushing her chair away from the table as she stood to her feet. "You don't know me well, but I know Ser Jaime. He is a man of honor. Your sister and I were his captors once, and when we were taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me and very nearly did the same to Lady Rhaella, Ser Jaime defended me. He lost his hand because of it." Rhaella allowed her eyes to flutter shut as the sound of broken sobs and tortured screams rang in her ears. "If it weren't for him, My Lady.. you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home. He swore an oath to your mother." 

"You vouch for him?" Expecting Brienne to be the one to answer, Rhaella remained silent. "Lady Rhaella, I'm also directing this question at you." 

Daenerys glowered as her sister left her designated spot to stand in front of Jaime and beside Brienne. "I do." She and Bree said in unison. 

"You'd fight beside him?" 

"We would." 

No one has ever called Jaime honorable; He’s hated by commoners and high borns alike. Has been judged and looked down upon for his behavior. And to have someone stand up and defend him and call him honorable is something far away from anything he could allow himself to hope for. [AUTHORS NOTE: THIS DIALOGUE IS NOT MINE] Having a Dragon Princess and a future Knight of the Seven Kingdoms vouch for him was far more valuable then any of the gold in Casterly Rock or the finest sword his father could give him. 

The two most respected people in the room believed in him, in his irreparable honor, and that was enough. 

"I have known you both at different times in my life, and I'd trust you both with it. If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay." 

"What does the Warden of the North say about it?" 

Surprisingly enough, Jon Snow had not spoken a word during the entire ordeal. "We need every man we can get." 

Clearly irritated by the end result of Jaime's trial, Daenerys nodded sharply to Greyworm, who emerged from his spot beside the High Table to return Widow's Wail to Jaime's hand. After thanking Daenerys, the Northern Lords and Daenerys' counsel left the room, all except herself and Jorah. 

Dany clearly had other things on her mind. 

"I did not give you permission to leave,  _Sister."_ Rhaella met Brienne's eyes and silently urged her out the main door of the Great Hall. The Lady Knight nodded and clasped Jaime and Sansa's shoulders. Them leaving left her alone with her sister, their protector, and Tyrion. 

Tyrion knew that she’d been provoked when Daenerys forced Rhaella and Jorah to remain behind in the Great Hall after Jaime’s interrogation. It came as no surprise to him when the Dragon Princess and the Maid of Tarth stood up to defend his brother, but the act didn’t awe him any less. 

  “You defended the man who _murdered_ our father.” Daenerys said icily. He’d seen the sisters at each others throats, dragons fighting for dominance, multiple times since Rhaella had come to Dragonstone. Rhaella usually kept her composure remarkably well, but Tyrion had a feeling that her steel composure around her youngest sister was about to change. Rhaella kept her back turned to the three of them as she watched Brienne escort the one-handed Lion and the She-Wolf out of the Great Hall, who were no doubt wondering what the sisters would say to one another. “After the years you’ve spent waiting for me, fulfilling our Prophecy, watching over my _dragons-“_

 _“_ You do not know.” She said it so quietly that Tyrion almost didn’t hear her. “You seem to think that only you know what is good, what is right and wrong. That’s the thing, _Your Grace._ You simply do not know. You are  _not_ almighty or all-knowing."  Tyrion had always been awe-struck by the oldest Targaryen. Left to fend for herself in a world where no one knew of her, hated by his sister, too in love with his brother to tell him.. and yet here she stood in front of one of the people she admired most, her oldest friend, and the sister she was meant to rule with. “Do not presume to know me or the desires of my heart, _Daenerys Stormborn._ ” Daenerys winced as she came to stand on the other side of the table. He winced with her. Tyrion thought he’d never see the day where the dragon lurking inside Rhaella Targaryen would waken, but it seemed Daenerys was working towards exactly that. _She has only begun to stir._  “You do not know Ser Jaime.” 

  “And _you_ , betraying our House by falling in love with a Kingslayer.” Daenerys replied cooly. “Hiding your relationship with him from me, swearing yourself as my sworn sword as Jorah has despite your heart being with a Lannister. I must say..” She clucked her tongue. Tyrion tried not to pay attention to the way Rhaella was fuming. “It’s disappointing. All these years of hearing these stories about you, I held you as a legend. Now you’re just.. this. Lovesick. Pathetic.” 

She slammed her hands against the table and blue eyes met blue. He’d never seen someone born of fire look so cold. “Better to be lovesick and pathetic then to never know love at all, _Khaleesi.”_

Jorah rested his hand against Daenerys’ shoulder to keep her from calling out as Rhaella stormed out of the room. 

***

After the Targaryen sisters spat in the Great Hall, Jaime didn't see Rhaella for the rest of his first afternoon. What he  _did_ see, though, was Ser Cederic gawking at her when he caught a glimpse of silver hair passing through the yard or sparring with Lady Brienne. 

To say he'd been surprised when not one but  _both_ women stood up to speak on his behalf would've been an understatement. No one had ever called him honorable. No one. Then a Knight and a Princess had vouched for him, and the world stopped spinning and his heart ceased to beat in that moment.  _They believe in me, they believe in my honor, they still think I'm a good man._

"Lady Targaryen deserves better then you." 

Jaime snorted as Cederic joined him on the parapet overlooking the main courtyard. "Tell me something I don't already know," He muttered, brushing a hand over his beard. Jaime peered at the other man through the corner of his eye. He was definitely lower-born, but not a commoner. Most likely from one of the lesser known Houses of the north. "I see you're a competent swordsman. Care to spar?" 

Cederic shook his head. "I may be competent, but no one can live up to your expectations." He retorted. "And either way, we should be saving our energy for the battle. You know.. The Long Night. The one most of us won't survive." 

It seemed he was hinting at something. 

"Are you insinuating something, Ser?" 

"Gods, you're a _fool._ " Cederic muttered. "I'm  _saying_ that if you don't pursue your desires, Lannister.." He nodded towards the courtyard where Brienne, Arya and Rhaella were engaged in a three way sparring session. "I might." The younger man winked and disappeared down the walk, waving eagerly to Rhaella who beamed at the sight of him before turning her attention back to Arya as she swept Needle in an arc over her head. Something bubbled in Jaime's stomach, something he had not felt in a long, long time. 

Jealousy. 

Tyrion joined him a moment later in the place where Cederic has stood. "Maybe after I'm dead, I'll march down to King's Landing and rip her apart. Would be a satisfying ending given that  _we_ are going to die at Winterfell." He watched his brother's gaze drift down to the camp outside the gates where Rhaella and Brienne were overseeing the soldiers sparring before them, Podrick at the helm as he adjusted their footwork while they fought. "Have you talked to her yet?" 

"No." Jaime said. "That Cederic fellow keeps getting in my way." Tyrion smirked as he remembered the plan Rhaella and Cederic had fabricated long before Jaimes arrival for this very reason, to see if he was as jealous a man as she claimed him to be. "He's.." 

"What?" Tyrion asked. "Doing what you never would?" Tyrion waited for the wildfire burning within his brothers eyes to snap back to him, but it never came. Only silence followed, and that was when he knew. He knew in the way Jaime looked to the Dragon Princess below at the side of her closest friend, looking ever the part of royalty as she oversaw her sisters army. 

That was when he knew Jaime felt the same way about Rhaella as she did about him. "I'd act soon, brother. We might die on the 'morrow." 

Jaime looked down to Tyrion. "I will." He said softly. "I just.. have to find the time. She seemed very angry when she stormed out of the Great Hall earlier." Tyrion swallowed his obvious discomfort. "Okay, you're hiding something." 

"Their.. ah, _altercation?_ It was about you." 

Jaime froze in his place. Why on  _Earth_ would the-  _Oh._ "I'm guessing your Queen was not too keen on her sister being affiliated with the man who killed their father." He said it so somberly, almost as if Daenerys had any actual input on his relationship with Rhaella. "I imagine Rhaella-" 

"Disagreed, told her she knew nothing and then stormed out of the room?" Again the Lannister brothers looked down to the pair. "I've seen ice in those eyes and fire in that heart, but I've never seen the dragon more fierce then when she's trying to protect the one she loves. So when I say  _do_ something about it, I mean it. Or Cederic will, and she will be lost to you forever." 

***

He was always one step behind her. After offering his hand to Brienne in fighting with the left flank, Jaime went off in search of Rhaella to find a moment to speak to her alone. He'd pondered Tyrion's words since the moment he'd parted from the Lady Knight, who remarkably enough had not said a word about her elusive best friend. 

But Brienne knew. She always did. 

"Has  _anyone_ seen my dagger?!" Jaime smirked as Rhaella stormed throughout the courtyard with Cederic on her heels, his words falling on deaf ears as she curved in and out of the people who occupied it in search of her most trusted weapon. "A hefty reward will be involved if someone can find it for me! Valyrian steel, dragon hilt and ruby eyes-" 

Gendry tapped the elder Lannister on the shoulder. "I have that weapon for you." He whispered, tucking Keeper's scabbard into Jaimes gloved flesh hand. "Barely had time to finish it with all the dragon glass weapons, but I replaced the rubies, polished and sharpened the blade." His eyes widened as Rhaella stormed up to Cederic and shook him roughly by the shoulders, causing Jaime to snicker beneath his breath. "What did you do?" 

"Oh, started a rumor with the commoners." He replied. "Told them to say that Ser Cederic of House Whatever stole Lady Targaryen's priceless dagger that's three decades old. She needed to be riled up, and it's so _gratifying_ to see that poor fool so embarrassed." 

" _You_ stole the dagger from the princess? How'd you manage that?" 

He smiled. "That girl of yours makes for a perfect pickpocket." 

" _Arya_ stole the dagger?" 

Jaime shrugged. "I could think of no one finer, once I got past the whole  _I-want-to-kill-you-for-what-you-did-to-my-dad_ thing." He removed the dagger from its scabbard and ran a gloved finger over the blade. "You're a fine smith, Gendry." His eyes focused on the hilt, where there was no longer rubies pressed into the eyes of the dragon but a sapphire and an emerald. The dragon for House Targaryen, the emerald for Jaime, and the sapphire for House Tarth. Three things closest to Rhaella's heart. "I hope she'll like it." 

"You put alot of thought into that idea, My Lord." The men both chuckled as Brienne and Podrick emerged from the Great Hall and lead Rhaella and Cederic inside, no doubt for more discussion about strategy. That was probably something he needed to be there for. "I believe she will." 

So that was how Jaime found himself between Brienne and Rhaella as dusk fell, overlooking a candlelit map of Winterfell. "We can't beat them in a straight fight." Jon Snow announced. 

"So what can we do?" Jaime asked. 

"The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls.. Getting to him may be our best chance." 

"If that's true, he'll never expose himself." 

"Yes he will." All eyes turned towards Brandon Stark who was sitting nestled in the corner, tucked into the wheelchair his Maester had fashioned just for him to maneuver more easily. "He'll come for me. He's tried before, many times with many Three-Eyed-Ravens." 

"Why?" A broad, pudgier man asked. Jaime did not know of him, so he made no effort to know his name. "What does he want?" 

"An endless night." Bran replied. "He wants to erase this world, and I am its memory." 

"That's what Death is, isn't it? Being forgotten. If we forget where we've been, and what we've done, we're not men anymore. Just animals. Your memories don't come from books. Your stories aren't just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I'd start with you." 

"How will he find you?" Tyrion interjected. 

Bran rolled up his sleeve. "His mark is on me." Surely enough, three long claw marks stretched across his forearm. "He always knows where I am." 

"We'll put you in the crypt, where it's safest." 

" _No."_ Jon and Sansa balked as Bran shook his head. "We need to lure him into the open before his army destroys us all. I'll wait for him in the Godswood." 

"You want us to use you as  _bait?_ " Sansa asked. 

"We're not leaving you alone out there." Arya remarked. 

"He won't be." The Stark sisters turned towards the only Greyjoy standing at the table. Rhaella had not been privileged to talk to Theon in depth, but based off of what Sansa had told her, he shared alot of similarities with Jaime. Poorly made choices, a selfish arrogant complex that lead him straight to his knees begging for surrender, and now seeking redemption. "I'll stay with him, with the Iron Born." He turned his eyes toward Bran. "I took this castle from you once. Let me defend you now." 

Bran nodded. 

"When the time comes, Ser Davos and I will be on the walls to give you the signal to light the trench." 

Daenerys and Rhaella both moved to speak at the same time, and the elder sister allowed her younger to speak first. "Ser Davos is perfectly capable of waving a torch on his own." She said. "You'll be in the crypt." 

"Your Grace, I have fought in battle before. I can do it again." 

" _You_ are much more useful with your mind then you are your arm, Tyrion." Tyrion turned his eyes towards Rhaella as she braced her hands against the table, leaning inward to meet his gaze. "There are thousands of them and only one of you. That mind will win us many, many trials in the future. I think Daenerys and I would like to keep it." 

Dany nodded. "I concur with my sister." 

Tyrion huffed. "Very well." He muttered. 

"The dragons should give us an edge in the field." Ser Davos remarked. 

''If they're in the field, they're not protecting Bran." 

Rhaella shook her head. "That's not what the dragons are there for, Jon." She said. "Your brother more then knows what he is getting himself into in taking the Night King on headfirst. All we will need for the Godswood is Theon and the other Iron Born, maybe a few more additional hands just so we know he's safe. Daenerys and I will be riding Rhaegal and Drogon out  _in_ the field, where they will be most effective." Unable to properly see the younger Stark son, Rhaella tilted her head towards the ceiling. "Tell me, Brandon. Will dragon fire stop him?" 

"I don't know, Princess." Bran replied. "No one has ever tried." 

"We're all going to die." Tormund announced. Dread curled in her stomach as Rhaella met Brienne and Jaime through the corner of her eye. "But at least we'll die together." 

"Let's get some rest." Jon said. "We'll need it." 

Before she could flee the room entirely, cold golden fingers enveloped her wrist in a gentle manner to grab her attention. "My Lady," Jaime murmured. He was so close, close enough that she could wrench him downward and kiss him hard on the mouth in front of all still present.  _I wish I had less self control._ "I was wondering if we could have a moment." 

Rhaella's eyes traveled the empty room. It was rather shocking to her that Daenerys had left her behind very well knowing now the nature of their relationship. "I have an idea. You, me, a fire and  _wine._ I need a distraction from my sister." She muttered. "Find me a chamber, Ser Jaime." 

it had been  _hours_ since she'd gone rampaging through Winterfell, and yet he could still see the anger simmering in her eyes. Jaime lead her through the halls until they came upon a vacant room with a roaring fire, no doubt lit by one of the servants. 

Rhaella immediately made herself at home by filling a glass and settling down in the chair. 

"Are you going to join me?" She called out. "Don't stand around looking foolish all day, we have a war to fight in the morning." 

Jaime took the goblet from the table and poured wine to the rim before sitting across from her. "You're obviously angry about something." He remarked. "Might it have anything to do with Keeper?" 

He was expecting rage, and what he got instead was all the blood draining from her expression in what was very obvious embarrassment. "I have  _never_ let that dagger out of my sight, Jaime." She ran a trembling finger across the rim of her goblet. "Of all the things that symbolizes my past.. It is by far the dearest to my heart, and to lose it-" 

"You didn't lose it, Rhaella." He said softly. Her brow furrowed in confusion as Jaime reached into the pocket of his cloak and produced the daggers scabbard. "I.. um.. might've had Arya steal it from you once I realized it needed some polishing." 

"What did you do to it?" She extended her hand outward. "Let me see, Jaime." He laid the scabbard in her palm as watched as she removed the blade, a gasp falling past her lips as she gazed upon the finely finished Valyrian Steel. " _Gods,_ it is beautiful. No one could've done work like this except Gendry.. and I don't know where he would've learned how to do it!" 

"Men like him are built for creating divine weapons like that." He nodded towards the hilt. "Look at the hilt." Rhaella turned Keeper over in her hands and eyed the pommel. Instead of the two rubies she'd grown so accustomed to seeing every time she removed the weapon, in their place was an emerald and a sapphire. "For House Tarth and House Lannister, the two Houses of your closest friends." He watched as she carefully handled the weapons, eyes gleaming with awe. 

No one had ever done such a heartfelt thing for her before. Not one soul. Cederic hadn't even done something as grand as  _that._

"Jaime." Rhaella whispered. Setting the dagger aside, she brought her chair close enough to his own that their knees touched, and she extended her hand to thread her fingers with his. Jaime sighed as inexplicable warmth flooded his body. "You've given me something far greater then I could ever hope for. Thank you." 

"Does this mean-" 

" _Yes,_ you fool. You're on the right track to gaining my trust back. Survive the battle, then we can talk about our heart." The sound of footsteps caught her attention. "Ah, my favorite Lannister. I'm surprised my sister has not killed you yet." 

Tyrion smirked as he sat between them. "With you around, Princess.. I doubt it possible." He lifted his own wine glass for Jaime to fill it. "I was seeking solitude and found the two loneliest and most stubborn people I know.. how fitting." Rhaella snorted as she leaned into her chair and sipped at her wine. "I was thinking about how I wish our father was here. I'd love to see the look on his face when he realizes his two sons are about to die defending Winterfell and the  _Targaryens._ He's probably rolling in his grave at Casterly Rock as we speak." 

Jaime laughed. "That would be something to see." 

"I remember the first time we were here, the first time I saw this very hall. You were my sister's handmaiden," He pointed at Rhaella. "You were a Golden Lion, and I was a drunken whoremonger. It was all so simple." 

"You think simplicity is complying with every single thing Cersei Lannister spits at you?  _Wash my clothes, feed my children, do my hair and help me bathe._ Gods, I hated serving her." Rhaella snarled into her wine glass as she finished its contents. "It wasn't simple." 

"She's right." Jaime agreed. "I was sleeping with my sister and you had two friends in the world. One of which was sleeping with his sister." 

"I was speaking in relative terms." 

Being with Jaime and Tyrion was so much easier then being with Daenerys. With the Lannister brothers, she could be herself. She could allow her regal walls to fall and the defiant Targaryen daughter to emerge, the one who had been insistent about being different from the others who'd come before her and had picked up a sword instead of a needle because of it. With Jaime and Tyrion, it felt more like _living i_ nstead of  _serving._

Rhaella loved every minute of it. 

"Do you miss it?" 

"Of course I miss it." 

"I don't miss  _any_ of it. Maybe the part where I made a daring escape through the Red Keep to come rescue you from Catelyn Stark." The sight of her shrouded in darkness, standing in his cell with her fingers wrapped around his chin in front of Catelyn and Brienne was one he'd never forget. "Let us remember that I saved your sorry skin more times then you can count, Lannister." 

Jaime smiled softly as his eyes flickered back towards the flames. "Well, those days are done." He replied. "The Golden Lion is no more, but whoremongering is still an option for you." 

"No, it's not." The look he gave was one of dissatisfaction. He'd enjoyed being Hand of the Queen  _before_ Daenerys had come to Westeros, but not since arriving at Winterfell. Tyrion had no idea how his father had managed to do this for two decades. "Thing would be easier if it were." He lifted his glass. "To perils of self betterment." 

Jaime turned away from his brother to refill the glass of the lady at his side. Her lips were reddened by the wine, and he wondered if it'd taste better on her then it did in the glass. 

"You two have made my life one worth living. Being around you, growing up with you.. taught me far more then my mother and father ever did." Both the brothers eyes softened as they turned in their chairs to meet the blues staring back at them. Soft, vulnerable blues that were only ever visible when she was out of sight of her sister. "If I haven't said it before-''

"Don't worry, Princess." Jaime interjected. 

"We already know." 

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the door opening. Brienne, Podrick and Cederic entered the room soon after, and Rhaella lit up at the sight of her best friend. "Bree!" 

"Forgive me, Rhaella." Brienne called out. "We didn't mean to interrupt, we were just looking for somewhere warm to-" 

"Contemplate your imminent death? You've come to the right place." Tyrion feigned a smile at Cederic. "Ser Cederic, if you'd be so kind as to remove the wine from the Princess.. I fear she was never good at holding her wine." 

"Very well." Cederic crossed the room and plucked the wine glass from Rhaella's hand, his gaze darkening as she blinked twice and lifted her eyes to meet his own. "Forgive me Princess, but I think you have some wine.." He ran the pad of his thumb across the corner of her mouth, noting the deliberate shiver she gave and the glower from Jaime beside her. "Got it." 

"Do you want some of this piss? It's not bad, but it's not good either." 

Podrick immediately nodded. "Thank you, My Lord." He said. 

"I don't think that's wise." Brienne, ever the vigil, kept her hand on the pommel of Oathkeeper as she watched her squire stand at the side of his former Lord and patiently wait for her approval. "The battle could start at any moment." Rhaella laughed as Podrick pouted which only coaxed Brienne into relenting. He was beginning to act more and more like he was her son every day he was with her. "Half cup." 

"And you?" Tyrion asked. 

"No, thank you. I should try to get some sleep." 

"You really think any of us are going to sleep tonight?" Jaime asked as he pulled a chair in between Rhaella and Cederic, forcing it through the minimal gap left between their knees. Despite the fact they'd been speaking, Jaime smirked at his obvious annoyance before gesturing for Brienne to sit down. "Sit." 

She nodded. "Alright. Just for a bit." 

"Well, what do we have here?" Ser Davos Seaworth promptly entered the room and placed himself directly in front of the fire. "I see you're drinking, not for me tonight. I came here for this. Figured I could wait to die freezing my balls off out there or wait to die nice and warm in here." 

Then, of all people, Tormund showed up. Rhaella groaned loudly and hid her face in her hands. "It could be our last night on this Earth you know." He said to Brienne, who blushed at the remark. 

"Yes, and I'm glad you're here-" 

" _Brienne-"_ Rhaella warned. 

"Glad you're here, fighting with us!" She exclaimed. "Glad you survived East Watch." Tyrion lifted the nearly empty wine pitcher to Tormund, who shook his head and produced his horn of goats milk. 

The Wildling took a look at the growing group before him before his eyes settled on Jaime. "They call you King Killer." His eyes slowly shifted to Rhaella. "They say you saved the live of the Princess by killing your King." 

Rhaella nodded. "They'd be telling the truth, Tormund." She said. 

"I'm sure  _someone_ here calls me King Killer, yes." 

"They call me Giantsbane. Want to know why?" Despite the fact that nobody answered, Tormund pulled up the remaining chair and decided he was going to tell a story. "I killed a giant when I was ten and then climbed right into bed with his wife." Brienne and Jaime eyed each other, almost as if he to say  _is he serious?_ as Tormund continued. "When she woke up, you know what she did? She sucked me at her teat for three months. Thought I was her baby. That's how I got so strong. Giant's milk." He downed the last of the liquid in the drinking horn, oblivious to the way it poured down his cloak and soaked the fur. 

"Maybe I will have that drink." Davos remarked. Rhaella snorted at the obvious discomfort radiating from the people around her. 

Silence settled among the group. The threat of imminent death hung in the air, but that did nothing to quell her battle-ready spirit. Rhaella had never seen war on this scale, but she believed she was ready for it. 

"It's strange, isn't it?" Tyrion's voice cut through the silence. "Almost everyone here has fought the Starks at one time or another. Here we are in their castle, ready to defend it together." 

"At least we'll die with honor." Brienne replied. 

"And  _that_ is coming from the most honorable person I know." Since Cederic had taken her wine glass, much of the alcohol had left her system and her mind was now clear of the haze that had settled upon it. "Personally, I think we'll live." Her blind optimism elicited laughter from Davos. "Excuse you, Onion Knight! I  _do._ How many battles have you survived between us?" 

Cederic had never had this conversation with Rhaella. Jaime, however, had. "Have you not seen war, My Lady?" He asked, to which she shook her head. "Consider yourself fortunate." 

"I'll tell you." Tyrion said. "Ser Davos Seaworth, survivor of The Black Water and the-" 

"Yeah, we all know that battle, Tyrion." Rhaella said. She cocked an eyebrow at the older man. "And I hear you did it without a shred of combat ability!" 

Tyrion gave the Dragon Princess a pointed look. "Do you think  _you_ can do better?" He said sharply. "C'mon Targaryen, humor me." 

Rhaella leaned against her elbows and steepled her fingers. "Ser Jaime Lannister,'' Jaime rolled his head over his shoulder to watch her, the corner of his lip turning up in a pleased smirk as she met his eyes. "Fabled hero of the Siege of Pike." 

"Fabled loser of the Battle of Whispering Wood!" Jaime exclaimed as he stood to his feet to refill his goblet. 

" _Hear, hear!"_

 _"_ Your turn, Tyrion." 

"Ser Brienne of Tarth, the only person I know who could and  _did_ defeat The Hound in single combat. Pardon me, Lady Brienne." 

Tormund seemed stunned by the fact Brienne was not a Knight. "She's not a Ser?" He asked. "You're not a Knight?" 

Brienne shook her head. Rhaella was suddenly struck with an idea, as was Jaime, and she crossed the room to quietly speak to him about it. "Women can't be Knights." Brienne remarked. 

"Why not?" 

"Tradition." 

"I don't even want to be a Knight." Brienne said. Podrick glanced over his shoulder at Rhaella and Jaime, who were both giving the exact same expression that read something along the lines of  _Are you serious? Is she serious? Are WE serious?_  and the sight made him chuckle quietly beneath his breath. 

"I'm no King. If I were, I'd knight you ten times over." 

Rhaella clapped her hands and stood in the middle of the group. "Now that we're on the subject," She began. "I've seen enough knighting ceremonies as the daughter of a King and granddaughter to Kings before Aerys Targaryen to know that you don't need a King to make a knight." Brienne's head snapped up to meet the eyes of her best friend -  _those bright blues so similar but so different from her own_ \- and slowly shifted over to Jaime. "Jaime, if you would." 

"Any Knight can make another Knight. I'll prove it." Jaime remarked as he stepped away from the group and removed Widow's Wail from its scabbard. "Kneel, Lady Brienne." Believing him to be mocking her, Brienne laughed disbelievingly beneath her breath. Why would he go to such levels to do such a thing, after all they'd been through together? "Do you want to be a Knight or not?" 

Stunned by the realization that the very thing she'd been working towards for her entire life was about to happen, Brienne of Tarth slowly stood to her feet and crossed the room to kneel in front of Jaime Lannister. 

An overwhelming sense of pride rushed through her as Rhaella Targaryen watched the man she loved and her best friend before her. This wasn't simply an act he could do because he had the right. This was an act of reverence, a way for Jaime to reaffirm he did indeed care for Brienne of Tarth. 

It might've not been in the same way he cared for her, but he indeed did care for Bree. 

His fingers flexed around the hilt of Widow's Wail as he lifted the blade to rest the tip against her shoulder. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." He moved the blade to her opposite shoulder. The words flowed so easily from his mouth that it was if he'd spent years reciting them after they'd been spoken over him by Ser Arthur Dayne. "In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent." Widow's Wail gently collided with the ground, and Brienne lifted her eyes to meet Jaimes. "Arise, Brienne of Tarth. A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms." 

Applause and cheers broke out in the chamber as Brienne stood to her feet, tears blurring her vision as she sought out the pride in her best friend's face. It was one thing to achieve the very thing you'd desired your whole life, but to know people were  _proud_ of you for it was another, and not something she'd ever experienced before. 

Rhaella gasped at the smile she was given. 

" _Ser Brienne of Tarth, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms!"_

Rhaella wiped her face with the back of her hand and moved to approach Jaime, who was still transfixed on the  _joy_ radiating from Brienne. "Jaime." She wrapped her fingers around his chin and brought his eyes to hers. It was almost as if he wasn't there, like he was watching the entire ordeal from outside of his body. " _Jaime._ " The urgency in her whisper brought his attention to her. Rhaella smiled. "I don't think I've ever seen you do something so selfless. That was an act of love." She motioned to the people crowded around the newly appointed Knight. "An act of love in the face of death. What you just did?  _That_ is the kind of selfless love that you've never known. I've often wondered what you’d do if you were given an opportunity to experience what real love is. One free of fear. I don’t think you’ve ever known that kind of love.” 

  “And have you, My Lady?" His voice dropped just low enough for them to hear, and he bowed his head to whisper in her ear. "Have you ever known that kind of love?” 

  “I have.” She took his hand in her own. “I know it every time I look at you.” 

"Rhaella!" Tyrion drew the pair apart, oblivious to the shock on his brother's face as he patted the chair beside him. "I've asked if anyone knows a song since we seem to be avoiding sleep, and  _no one_ seems to! Will you indulge your favorite Lannister? Just once?" 

Rhaella rolled her eyes and left Jaime's side to sit beside Tyrion. "You act as if I know every piece of music in existence." She replied. "Which shall we have this night? The Bear and the Maiden Fair?" Brienne's nose wrinkled distastefully. "Okay, that one is out. The Rains of Castamere? Timbers and Wind?" 

Both the Lannisters looked her dead in the eye, as did Cederic. The three of them had been around her enough to know which one she preferred. 

"I think you know which one we want." 

Rhaella cleared her throat and opened her mouth to sing, but was totally caught off guard by Podrick's deep baritone harmony to accompany the lull of her haunting melody. 

_And she never wanted to leave_

Jorah Mormont rode across the battlements, eye keenly set on the horizon. 

_Never wanted to leave_

Missandei bid Greyworm farewell with a searing kiss. 

_Never wanted to leave..._

Daenerys found Jon lingering in front of the statues in the Crypt. He had barely spoken a word since Jaime Lannisters trial earlier that afternoon, and she was set on finding out what had him so disturbed. "Who is that?" She asked. 

"Lyanna Stark." 

She had been told stories by both Viserys and Rhaella about her brother's affection for Lyanna Stark. Many had led her to believe the stories that the whole of Westeros believed, that Rhaegar had kidnapped and raped her because he couldn't have had her any other way. "My brother Rhaegar," She murmured. "Everyone told me he was decent and kind. He liked to sing with my sister. Gave money to poor children." Her eyes flickered back to the statue and the wolf. "And he raped her." 

"He didn't." Daenerys waited for Jon to continue. "He loved her. They were married in secret. I thought your sister might've had some idea about it given how close and Rhaegar were, but even she was blind to the truth. After Rhaegar fell on the Trident.. Lyanna had a son. Robert would've murdered the baby if he ever found out, and Lyanna knew it. The last thing she did as she bled to death on her birthing bed was give the boy to her brother, Ned Stark. My name, my _real_ name, is Aegon Targaryen." 

Daenerys recoiled. Jon recognized that look almost immediately. He'd given the same one when his brothers at the Night's Watch had accused him of being a traitor and stabbed him to death. 

Betrayal. 

"That's impossible." She spat. It had to be. Dany had worked her  _entire_ life towards this, towards obtaining her birth right, towards ensuring that Rhaella was true to her word and wouldn't try to take the Iron Throne from her. She loved her sister, she loved her  _family,_ but she wouldn't allow Jon to take what was rightfully hers even if he did have the better claim. 

"I wish it were." 

"Who told you this?" She asked. "And did you tell my sister?" 

"I didn't tell her yet." Jon replied. "And it was Bran who told me. He saw it." 

"He  _saw_ it?" 

"And Samwell confirmed it. He read about their marriage in the Citadel without even knowing what it meant." 

Daenerys pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. "A secret  _no one_ in the world knew, not even my sister, but somehow your brother and your best friend do?  That doesn't seem strange to you at all?" 

Jon could sense the fragility in the trust they'd established. "It's true, Dany." He said softly. "I know it." 

Her lips curled into a snarl. "If it were true, that would make you the last male heir of House Targaryen." Daenerys said coldly, her voice lacking its usual warmth she reserved for him. "You'd have a claim to the Iron Throne." 

The horns resounded from outside the walls of the Crypt. 

It was time for the battle to begin. 


	35. The Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle for survival begins.

After leaving the group to join with her sister as the horns resounded outside of Winterfell, Rhaella felt a real, proper fear for the first time in quite a while. Who was she to say she'd had the experience of battle, had blood on her hands and had fought for survival? 

Who was she to be a warrior of Westeros? A Dragon Princess, one who often put the needs of others before herself, but she was no hero. 

She was still dressed in her sisters commissioned armor, circlet pressed neatly against her head, Keeper now tucked into its place at her thigh and Blackfyre resting comfortably against her hip. She felt.. herself. Like a Targaryen. 

The Northmen, Unsullied and Dothraki milled about around her. Babies cried, orders were shouted, people unable to fight were moved down into the Crypts. She caught sight of Tyrion once before he disappeared entirely, and the sight of the younger Lannister reminded her that somewhere out there, Jaime was going to be fighting with Brienne. 

_Jaime._

Daenerys would be waiting for her on the cliff as they'd been instructed, which meant she only had a finite amount of time before she was forced to join her sister. Rushing through the front gates, she found Jaime and Brienne guiding the troops of the left flank to their battle positions. 

Part of her had thought that any affection Jaime would show her  _if_ he'd ever come up to Winterfell would be an act. He'd done it before, had done it most of her life.. so why would it not be the same now? 

_Because he left behind his family, his home, the Lannister legacy and everything he holds dear to his heart to fight a war that only some will survive._

He'd had Keeper refinished and repurposed to signify the importance of  _three_ Houses that held people close to her heart. He'd knighted Brienne, not because she asked him to, but because he  _wanted_ to. It seemed that over the years of knowing one another that Jaime often conveyed his love best through acts of service. 

"Brienne!" Brienne whirled around and eyed Rhaella as she emerged from the crowd. Her eyes flickered to Jaime, who was mostly distracted by the people around him and had yet to notice she was there. "Keep him safe." 

Brienne nodded firmly. She and Ser Jaime were friends, fellow Knights, and she respected Rhaella Targaryen far more then most of the people in Westeros. If keeping Jaime Lannister safe meant  _something_ would happen after the battle was won, she'd do it. 

Rhaella turned on her heel and meant to flee for the cliffs where she could hear Rhaegal's roar calling out to his rider. 

" _Rhaella!_ " She glanced over her shoulder, the cold knocking the air from her lungs as piercing green eyes met her own. She'd never get tired of seeing the adoration behind them. "Be safe. I expect to see you afterwards." 

_How do we know there is an afterwards, Jaime?_

She feigned a tight-lipped smile. "Afterwards." 

Jaime watched the Targaryen princess flee for the cliffs where her dragon and her Queen were waiting for her. 

***

Two Targaryens stood on the cliffs overlooking Winterfell Castle. They did not know who had lit the Dothraki's Arakhs or how the whole world seemed to be enveloped in fire after that, but the sight of fire unleashing across a land of ice awed Rhaella. 

It did not seem to move her sister. Her sister seemed.. well..  _angry._ Like someone had told her something just before the battle started and the rage had ripped right through her, a proper anger she intended to use to fight against the army of the Night King. 

The world on fire dissipated as quickly as it had ignited. 

" _Seven Hells..."_ She whispered. "The Night King is coming." 

Cold blue eyes met her own. It seemed Daenerys had not forgotten her charade of defending Jaime Lannister. "The dead are already here.'' 

The two women climbed upon their dragons, and the beasts took off into a bitter cold sky. 

Rhaella didn't remember the greater majority of what occurred during The Long Night. It was seemingly endless, the shadows of the forest outside of Winterfell pouring more and more wights then she could count, overwhelming their forces that stood in front of the castle. Drogon and Rhaegal unleashed walls of fire upon the Army of The Dead at the command of their riders.

Then a force unlike anything she had ever experienced unleashed itself in the skies she and Daenerys occupied. It was too thick to see the form of her sister or her dragon, but then a roar so  _sinister_ and so  _dark_ broke through the haze and made her blood run cold. 

Bran had warned them about this. Had warned them that The Night King had taken the corpse of her sister's _child_ and resurrected him to use against them. 

_Poor Viserion..._

She heard Daenerys' scream as something, most likely Viserion, collided with Drogon before they were once again left to navigate through the haze by themselves. The world beneath them burned with fire and blood. 

***

Strike, blow, stab, evade, repeat. A constant mantra repeating over and over and over again in Jaime's mind despite the numbing exhaustion creeping into old bones and the ache of his sword arm as it had been used for far longer then normal. 

He kept an eye on the skies for Rhaegal as he struck down each Wight. With each corpse that fell, he said another prayer to whatever Gods were listening. 

_I know I do not deserve happiness. I know I do not deserve to ask for a future with the woman I have loved all my life._

Brienne yelled something incomprehensible at his side. Her hand enveloped his arm and wrenched him backward and towards the castle as they made a hasty retreat. 

_I know I do not deserve her heart, or her compassion, or her empathy._ _I know I do not deserve to live through this battle._

When had his voice grown so hoarse? And was the blood obscuring his vision his or the blood of the creatures that had fallen? 

_But please, if you are out there, let her live._

They kept coming. 

_Let her live._

Faster, harder, ready to strike the final blow. He would accept death when it came for him, but that was not today. 

_Let us live._

***

Rhaegal had sensed her discomfort and her obvious chill and landed unsteadily on top of the Broken Tower to give Rhaella a moment to breathe. Dread knotted and ate at her stomach as Melisandre (or who looked like Melisandre) recited an incantation that ignited the trenches that had been dug across the front of Winterfell. 

She allowed her mind to wander for a moment, white hands gripping the spines of her dragon. She could see the Godwood where Theon and Bran were waiting for the Night King, she could see the mass of bodies in front of the Castle and hear the ring of steel clashing with steel. 

_A world on fire. Wasn't this what she wanted? A world filled with fire and blood?_

Then that sinister and dark roar echoed above her again, and for the first time that night Rhaella saw The Night King and the tattered remains of Viserion come into view.  He looked at her, and she looked at him, and Rhaegal took off after his brother. Rhaella was again enveloped by the bitter winds of winter and the acrid smell of smoke. 

_Up up up_

She urged Rhaegal higher, higher, higher until she could clearly see the form of Drogon lingering just above the clouds. Everything was clear up here. No signs of battle, no screaming.. peace. 

Peace, however, is never an option during war. 

Daenerys breathed a short-lived sigh of relief at the sight of her sister unharmed. Her relied was short-lived as Viserion too broke through the clouds, jaws poised in a mighty roar and a gust of pure  _ice_ followed after Rhaella and Rhaegal. 

 _I can't take much more of this._ Targaryens were not made for winter. After spending nearly her entire life in Essos with a sister who had been trapped in King's Landing since childhood, both sisters were rather fearful of what the cold of the North would bring. Bitter chills, a wind unlike anything they'd ever experienced, and so much death. Death meant for them, death meant to destroy everything they ever knew. 

_My reign is not over, it is only beginning. Death may come... but not today._

 ***

After Beric Dondarrions sacrifice to save both the life of herself and Sandor Clegane, Arya Stark remembered the words that Melisandre of Asshai had spoken over her so long ago. Another lifetime that had been. 

_And in your future, I see eyes staring back at me. Brown eyes, green eyes.. blue eyes. Eyes that you'll shut forever._

She now knew what she had to do in order to end The Long Night. She had a purpose, and she would fulfill it. 

" _What do we say to the God of Death?"_

_"Not today."_

_***_

There was only so many times in the life of a person where a situation paralyzed them with fear. For Rhaella Targaryen, that moment came when Rhaegal sought out Viserion and engaged himself in  _The Dance of Dragons,_ something that had not occurred since the years of Aegon The Conqueror and dragons roamed the skies of Westeros. 

She was  _proud_ of Rhaegal, but there was no way he would be able to best Viserion in a straight fight. His elder brother was twice if not three times his size and that alone gave him a clear advantage. 

Nevertheless, Rhaegal persisted just as his predecessor had done on the banks of The Trident so long ago. 

_Let it be over, let it be over, let it be over._

Rhaella tried to ignore the pained screams of her nephew as Viserion's teeth came dangerously close to dragging her off of him  _multiple_ times, intending to kill his rider before he killed his brother. Rhaegal thrashed and snarled in reply to no avail. Not until Drogon appeared over Viserion and tossed him through the air, giving his younger brother and his rider the opportunity to flee. 

Her eyes snapped open as the cold enveloped her. It seemed in the melee that he'd torn off her cloak meant to shield her from the snow and simultaneously left superficial wounds across her arms. Blood dripped onto the scales of the dragon. Rhaella paid it no mind. 

"Gīda, Rhaegal." Rhaella murmured, wincing as the dragon skidded to a stop and she tumbled off of his back. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was more then enough to mask the searing pain in her ankle. "Dakogon." 

He took off with a pained roar, and her heart ached for him. Rhaella examined the terrain the dragon had left her in and reached to her hip to remove Blackfyre from the scabbard. 

Every emotion that Cersei had made her suppress since the day The Mad King died came bubbling to the surface once again with each step she took through the battle field. Rage. Guilt. Anguish. Misery. Loneliness. _Love._

She lost count of how many Wights had fallen by her sword by the time she hit sixty.

Then she heard the wails of her nephew from across the battlefield where the Wights that had been awoken by The Night King were swarming him. 

_Dany._

Daenerys was sure her life was over when her dragon left his mother alone on the smoldering ruins of a battlefield littered with bodies, unarmed and absolutely terrified for her life. Then she saw the glimmer of  _two_ Valyrian steel swords collide with the head of the same Wight, and her guardians stepped out of the fire and surrounded her. 

Ser Jorah Mormont and Lady Rhaella Targaryen. 

" _Dany."_ Rhaella breathed, feigning a warm smile despite the blood coating her skin and the obvious injuries she'd obtained during the fight with Viserion. Her hand still firmly gripped the hilt of their ancestral sword. "C'mon. We've got to get somewhere-" 

"No time." Jorah interjected. Daenerys wrapped her arm around her sisters waist and allowed the older man to lead the Targaryens through the carnage. There was still alot of screaming in the distance. Fire rose from the Godswood. "Behind me, Princess. Lift that sword and show me you know how to use it!" 

Any anger Daenerys had held for her sister was gone as she watched the two best fighters she knew lift their blades and stand before her, seemingly unafraid as death approached them from all sides. 

With every swing of her blade, Rhaella fought for their future. For Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, for the brother she'd lost at The Trident, for the mother who died in childbirth, for the loss of her father's sanity and the decline of her sister's mind. 

She never saw Daenerys pick up the sword or Jorah obtain multiple stab injuries. 

Daenerys had never picked up a sword, much less learned how to fight, but she would do whatever it took to ensure that Jorah Mormont did not meet the same fate as those who had died in her early days of being Khaleesi. She'd already lost Drogo, Rhaego, Viserys, Rhaegar, her mother and her father. It was not time to lose Jorah and Rhaella. 

_Let him live. Let her live._

The blade came down on yet another Wight. She had lost alot of the motion in her arms due to how much they were shaking, but still she fought. 

_Let us live._

Blood dripped into her eyes. The injury to her ankle throbbed. Somewhere in the distance she could see the blue haze of ice flash in the air, hear the dragon screaming. Her heart was frantically pounding against her chest, desperate to give out, but Rhaella kept fighting. There was an afterwards, there was a future, there was a legacy to uphold for her House and the people who hadn't made it here. 

And then at the same time the blade pierced Jorah's lung and brought him to his knees, Arya Stark stood captive in the steel grip of the Night King and drove the dagger her brother had given to her in his heart. All of the White Walkers, the Wights, The Night King and the remains of Viserion crumbled. 

The living had prevailed. The reign of the Dead had ended. 

And so had the life of Jorah Mormont. 

Realization smacked both the sisters in the face as The Dragons Protector sank to his knees and fell flat on his back, wide eyes cast at the darkness of the sky above him. Rhaella knew in that moment that it was over. His breathing was labored, his sides covered in blood. There was nothing she could do. 

Her head fell to her chest. Daenerys fell to her knees and cradled his body against her, pressing her face to his breastplate to hide erself from the world. Rhaella sank into the ash and snow beside her sister and took the upper half of his body into her lap, using trembling fingers to shut his eyes. She laid a whispered prayer in the kiss against his forehead as Rhaegal and Drogon enveloped The Dragons Keeper and their Mother within their wings. 

The occupants of Winterfell could wait until daybreak to find them. 


	36. The Last of the Starks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of The Long Night: the beginning of the end and a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is on record the longest thing I have ever written in my entire career as a writer. It's 13.4K words long, and I seriously hope you guys enjoy it because I worked ridiculously hard to make it better then the Last of the Starks in canon.

Cederic was the one who found her. Jaime hadn't even allowed his thoughts to wander until well after dawn had broken over the top of the castle, or what remained of its walls. Many of the wounded had been ferried into what space remained untouched by the destruction. He had yet to see Tyrion, but Missandei and Brienne had both noticed the lack of the Dragon Princess and the Dragon Queen. 

" _Ser Jaime!"_

He whipped around and recognized the form of Cederic running towards him, face reddened by the cold and his chest heaving beneath his dented breastplate. Part of him, the ugly part, wished the fool had died during battle. "Cederic," Jaime replied cooly. "What's got you so red faced?" 

"The Dragon Queen and Princess have been found." He said hurriedly. "The dragons have formed a protective circle around them with their wings and none of the Northmen who have gone out to gather the bodies of our fallen can get through them, but I heard Lady Rhaella calling your name from within. She's asking for you." 

Jaime turned back around where Missandei was watching the entire conversation with wide eyes. "Missandei," He said softly. "Daenerys will no doubt be with her sister. Would you care to accompany me to the fields? The dragons are also familiar with you." 

"Under different circumstances, Kingslayer, I'd have no association with you."  _Well that's a shocker._ "But given that both our Queen and Ser Jorah have not returned, I will accompany you. She may not come out if you go alone." Jaime nodded and beckoned her to follow him, trailing on the heels of Cederic as he lead them past the pyres being built outside and into the open fields where the dragons had yet to move from their spot. 

He recognized Rhaegal right away, bathed in sunlight that glinted off the bloodied scales on his back.  It seemed none of the survivors had come through the battle unscathed. 

"Rhaella?" Jaime called out, cupping his hand over his mouth. "Can you hear me? Are you alright?" 

Rhaella wearily lifted her head at the sound of his voice, shocked she had fallen asleep against the leg of her dragon with Daenerys against her shoulder and Jorah's head still in her lap. "Jaime," She murmured. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she ran her fingers through the hair matted with blood beneath her palm. "I'm here,  _Jaime-"_

"You have to tell the dragon to let us in, sweetheart."  _No, no then that means you'll take Jorah from us and Daenerys will crumble and the madness will consume her, then you'll burn his body and then it'll all be real._ "We need to make sure you and your sister are alright." 

Daenerys had not moved. 

"Rhaegal," The dragon tipped his head towards his rider, as did Drogon. They were both more then alert of the strangers before them. "Ivestragī nyke ūndegon zirȳ." ( _Let me see them._ ) 

At the command of their Keeper, both the dragons opened their wings and allowed Jaime to see what lay within. Everything occurring behind him faded into white noise, muted and numb as he studied the Targaryen sisters and the corpse of their fallen protector. Rhaella was leaning against the leg of her own dragon, hand buried in Jorah's hair and tears heavily falling down bloodied cheeks as she met his gaze. Her cloak was gone, as was Blackfyre, discarded in the snow beside an unconscious Daenerys. 

His eyes swept over her form as she watched him, desperate and injured and buried in her sorrow. Her ankle was throbbing and swollen, her arms were weeping with the cuts inflicted by Viserion, and there was a nasty laceration on her temple that was in need of cleaning. 

Rhaella looked like she'd been through war. 

"Cederic, please take the Queen back to the castle. She is in need of medical treatment." Jaime commanded. Cederic obeyed without hesitation and urged Missandei forward to nudge Daenerys awake while he would act as the muscle needed to carry her back to the castle. Daenerys smiled weakly at the sight of her dearest friend and relented to her insistence to seek sleep and a bath to aid in curing her external wounds. Internal, however.. was a different matter. "Rhaella." Her head was limp against her shoulder, eyes fluttering as he gently tilted her chin towards him. " _Sweetheart,_ look at me." 

Blue snapped open to meet green. 

"Jaime-" 

"No, don't talk. We'll get you to safety." He saw a flash of armor from the corner of his eye and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Brienne who seemed to be doing everything possible not to panic at the state of her dearest friend. "Brienne-" 

Brienne bent down without hesitation and scooped The Dragon Princess into her arms, whispering quietly under her breath as Rhaella laid her head against her chest. Jaime wondered if this was Brienne's way of helping her cope as her mother too had whispered words of comfort to her after Galladon had died. 

Tyrion recognized them immediately and urged Brienne forward with Rhaella still nestled in her arms. Cederic and the other Northmen had taken Jorah's body to be burned on the pyre during the funeral they'd have after everyone had recuperated over night. The dead could wait one more day to be honored. 

"Rhaella!" Tyrion exclaimed. "Is she alright? Is she-" 

Jaime nodded and laid his hand against her leg. "She's alive, as is your Queen." Jaime replied. "Missandei has taken Daenerys in to see Tarly, but Brienne suggested she take Rhaella to her chambers where the two of us could attend to her wounds without other people around. I think that is what she'd prefer." 

Tyrion nodded. "I am glad she is safe." He paused. "Let me know how she fares. I must go check on the Queen." He murmured before turning and disappearing without another word. Jaime took a look at Brienne who still had Rhaella cradled in her arms, wide blue eyes surveying the chaos around them. He had forgotten that this was her first war too. 

"Brienne," Jaime said softly. "Please take Rhaella to her chambers. I'll join you momentarily." 

Brienne nodded and disappeared down the corridor. Rhaella blinked twice before slowly lifting her head and peering at her Lady Knight. "Mm..  _Bree,_ " She whispered dreamily. "A Knight in shining armor. How fitting." 

"You're injured, Rhaella." 

"Not just externally, either. My-My  _heart-_ " Rhaella laid her hand over her chest and frowned. Brienne had never seen her act this way before, so she chalked it up to the injuries she'd sustained. She was obviously exhausted and struggling with dehydration and hunger, on top of the loss she and Daenerys had endured. "Is broken, Lady Brienne. Tell me, can a Knight fix a broken heart?" 

Brienne shook her head as she opened the door to Rhaella's chamber and slowly maneuvered herself inside. She shut the door with her foot and peered at her surroundings. Rhaella's chamber was relatively simple as were the others in the castle, but there were tokens around the room that told someone entering that it belonged to her. The circlet rested on the desk in the corner, the armor her sister had made sitting neatly beside it as it had just been freshly polished. A roaring fire had been lit in the fireplace and fresh clothes lain on the bed. 

"This Knight can't." Brienne admitted as she laid Rhaella on the bed and looked to her foot. Jaime had said she'd sustained an injury to her ankle. "I'm going to take your boot off, Rhaella. Try not to scream." 

Rhaella nodded and braced her chin towards the ceiling, wincing as Brienne slowly moved her boot back and forth and aggravated the swelling. "The Knight with the Gold Hand," She whispered. "He's tried to fix it before.. but he just made it worse. How can a man with a bleeding heart fix mine? How can-" 

A piercing scream filled the air as Brienne finally took the boot and accompanying greaves and tossed them in the corner. She frowned at the state of her ankle. "I think you've spent so much of your life ignoring it you can't possibly fathom the fact that after everything you two have been through, he might love you back." Wide eyes stared at her as Brienne pulled the chair beside the bed. All they had to do now was wait for Jaime. "But if you  _really_ want to know how he feels, you should follow the plan." 

Rhaella wiggled her eyebrows. "Oh, believe me." She mused. "I intend to." 

Before either woman could continue talking, the door was thrown open and Jaime stumbled inside with a satchel of medical supplies. "My Lady," He greeted, setting them on the desk before turning to look at Rhaella. "You've seen better days." 

"You've lost your gold hand, Jaime." Rhaella retorted. Her playful demeanor fell when she saw the raw, puckered flesh of his stump and the blood that had crusted around the end where the leather usually came together. "You left the hand on too long. It needs to be cleaned." 

Realizing it was her time to depart, Brienne knelt down to speak to Jaime. "I'll be outside, Jaime." She murmured before she turned toward the door. "I'll ask Lady Sansa to have a bath drawn for Rhaella. She will need it." 

Jaime nodded and kept his gaze focused on the Dragon Princess lounging in the bed in front of him. The armor she was wearing was the same that Rhaegar had made for her, but was much more obviously fitted for a woman then that of a man. Her experience with the dead had damaged it beyond repair, but she didn't seem to mind. 

As for Jaime, Tarly had hurriedly made him a crudely fashioned sling for his arm to rest in as he had overexerted it during the battle, which would make cleaning her wounds far more difficult then he wanted. "If I give you the gauze," He reached for the roll of gauze and handed it to her. "Do you think you can wrap your ankle?" 

"I'll do my best." A comfortable silence settled as Rhaella slowly and meticulously wrapped her ankle until barely any gauze remained. She laid the roll beside her thigh and lifted her eyes to look at him. "C'mere." She outstretched her fingers. "Let me take your armor off." 

Jaime nodded and sat at her bedside, wide green eyes watching her every move as she navigated the clasps of his armor with ease. Despite her exhaustion she seemed so confident in her movements, unlatching every clasp until the breastplate fell into her hands and she set it at her side. Concern etched into her expression as she ran her fingertips over the fabric of his tunic, her frown deepening as he winced. "It's just bruises." He whispered, taking her hand in his own and laying a featherlight kiss upon her palm. Rhaella smiled softly and lifted her free hand to brush her fingers through his hair. "I'm afraid I am a bloody mess, My Lady." 

Gods, how she loved him. She loved him  _so_ much. 

"As am I, Ser." She whispered. "But until Brienne comes back with the servant to draw my bath, I want to stay like this." Jaime leaned into her touch and allowed his eyes to flutter closed at the gentleness tracing his rugged features, around his eyes and across his lips until the pad of her thumb brushed over the cracked flesh there. Cersei had always been hard and cold, always taking and never giving in return. He'd yearned for compassion, for tenderness and consideration of the fragile state of his heart for nearly his entire life. He wanted to be loved, to  _love_ as he loved so unconditionally, and it seemed it was finally in his favor to have exactly that. "Forever." 

"There's no one else here." He lifted his free hand to cup her face. "Only us." 

" _Only us."_  Rhaella was reminded of the time in Harrenhal when she'd taken care of him, half a corpse and half a man, and a lie she'd been lead to believe for decades was revealed and so was the core of his bleeding heart. Her eyes fell to the raw flesh of his stump. "Jaime, I want to take care of  _you._ Let me-"

"Not yet. You're much worse off then this cripple." Jaime said, hoping the jibe would lift her spirits. It just made her heart ache more simply because he believed himself and the sacrifice he made to make him  _less_ thanks to the influence of Cersei. "Let's focus on getting  _you_ treated first." 

After carefully applying the ointment and stitching what needed to be stitched, Rhaellas wounds had been attended to. She turned to Jaime and removed the rest of his armor without moving from the bed, her touch lingering just a little too long and her eyes constantly tracing the shape of his mouth. By the time Brienne returned with the news of the incoming bathtub and the water, Jaime had fallen asleep in the chair. 

"Lady Brienne," Rhaella whispered, tracing her thumb against the ridge of his swollen knuckles. Brienne cracked a smile as Jaime did not stir, his mouth hanging open and his head resting uncomfortably against his shoulder. "I'm afraid the Fair Knight has fallen asleep. I don't think he'll wake up." 

"You need to bathe, Rhaella." Brienne insisted. "I'll wake him and send him to the bathhouse. I think he'll benefit more from it." When Rhaella didn't reply, Brienne watched The Dragon Princess carefully swing her legs over the bed and nudge at his thigh with her good foot, taking his head in her hands and tilting it just enough that she could place a deliberate string of kisses across his face. " _Ella-"_

"Sh, Lady Knight." She hissed. Jaime moaned quietly in his sleep as her kisses persisted. She noted how every time she made her way across his face she always skipped the temptation of his mouth. Every time. "Jaime, darling.. You need to wake up. Brienne said there's a bath waiting for you." 

Jaime peered through one narrow eye and snorted at the sight of Brienne. "To be a repeat of Harrenhal, Lady Brienne?" He asked. "Please, do take my arm. I'm afraid I don't have the strength to stand on my own." 

Brienne complied after a straight minute of cursing at him under her breath before she pulled Jaime from the room and left Rhaella alone. 

The moment the door shut, the dam burst. 

Her heart wept for Jorah Mormont. 

***

When Daenerys found her sister, Rhaella was knee deep in the steaming bathwater that Sansa Stark had sent to her chambers after the battle. She herself had only just finished bathing with Missandei standing nearby, ever the faithful, and all Dany wanted right now was reassurance that  _someone_ she cared about was still alive. 

"Rhaella." Daenerys whispered as she knelt beside the tub and rested her hand against her sisters. Blue eyes shot open and snapped over to meet her own, wide and alert until they realized it was Daenerys at her side. "Are you alright?" 

The elder Targaryen feigned a smile. "I think you know the answer to that, Dany." 

"I'd say the same." She replied. "I'm not... I don't know what to do now." Rhaella often forgot that Daenerys was barely in her twenties and had spent her entire life preparing to fight a war in a place she'd never known, without the aid of her family to guide her or protect her. "Jorah has been by my side for  _all this time_ and now I have to take King's Landing without him being there to witness it? What's the  _point_?" 

"Jorah wanted you on that throne, and he wanted me to help you get there." Rhaella said. She motioned to the towel beside the tub and Daenerys turned her back as her sister emerged, naked as her nameday, and began drying herself off. She was careful to not aggravate her injuries. "So that's what I'm going to do. When you are coronated, remember who died to get you there. Honor them. It's all we can do." 

Dany smiled. "For Jorah." She whispered. Rhaella winced at the ache in her ankle as she slipped on her small clothes and shift, reaching for the bloodied Targaryen pendant they'd taken off of Jorah earlier that morning. The funeral would come at dawn, and then the real work would begin. 

"For Jorah." She murmured. "And for Rhaegar." 

When Brienne and Tyrion went to check on Rhaella later that night, they were greeted with the sight of the last two Targaryens sleeping peacefully. Brienne wrenched the youngest Lannister out of the room and urged him to go back to Jaime. 

Such peace should not have been disturbed. 

***

When dawn broke, Rhaella rose and so did Daenerys. Two servants entered the chamber to help The Dragon Princess and Queen prepare for the funeral to be held outside of Winterfell after they broke their fast, and then the preparations to begin rebuilding the castle and march on King's Landing would begin. 

Neither sister said a word until they stood gathered with the others who had survived The Long Night and gazed over the pyres that seemed to stretch on forever. 

Rhaella tried not to think of the graves of the fallen Targaryen kings. She tried not to think about Rhaegar on The Trident, Viserys with the Dothraki, and the inevitable succumbing to madness that would consume her sister. She'd lost far too much. They both had. 

Gloved fingers nudged at her own, but she didn't feel them. Not until Cederic stepped close enough to lace them through her own. She welcomed the offer at comfort and turned her attention to Jon Snow. 

"We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters, to our fathers and mothers. To our friends, fellow men and women who set aside their differences to fight together and die together so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory for those who come after us and those who come after them for as long as men draw breath. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men and we shall never see their like again." Silence settled over the crowd as Jon beckoned those wielding the torches forward, and Daenerys stepped forward to approach Jorah's pyre. 

Her sister urged her forward, but she did not move. Everything was cold, consuming, desperate to wrap its claws around her throat and squeeze until she suffocated and joined the ranks of the dead before her. Everyone else she loved was dead. _Why_ had Rhaella Targaryen, of all people, survived this long? 

_Because someone out there cared enough to save your life, and you have a purpose to fulfill in seeing your sister on that Iron Throne._

Her eyes flickered down the line to Jaime. Jaime Lannister, who she had loved recklessly and wildly since the day the Grand Maester had instructed her to teach him how to read. Since the day she screamed with him in his agony over Locke taking his hand. Jaime Lannister, the one who had tried to preserve her innocence by ensuring she did not see her father fall at the foot of the very thing that had corrupted him to begin with. The heir to Casterly Rock, The Golden Lion, the one everyone wanted to kill or kiss. 

To love a man of honor the way she had was one of the best things she'd ever done, even with all the suffering Cersei had put her through in the midst of it. Suffering in life often brings upon the best lessons. 

Plumes of smoke rose and dissipated in the sky. The world was consumed with fire, and the bodies of the fallen were reduced to ash. 

*** 

Her afternoon found Rhaella oddly invested in Cederic, who was thriving off of the way Jaime continuously glared daggers at him as they ate. She was still tired but  _famished_ after having not eaten a morsel since the moments Brienne had taken her back to her room.

Sansa, Arya, Jon, and Daenerys all sat at the High Table. There was an empty spot meant to be filled by her, but Rhaella wanted to be with Jaime and Brienne to celebrate their victory. 

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as Cederic gripped her chin between his fingers and turned her attention away from Podrick, who was looking at her with such a bemused expression that it was almost comical.

Rhaella held her finger up to his lips at the sound of Daenerys' voice. 

" _Gendry._ " All eyes in the hall turned towards The Queen and Gendry Waters, who had frozen mid-stop in his trek back to his seat. "That is your name, isn't it?" 

"Y-Yes, Your Grace."

"Your Robert Baratheon's son." She said. "You are aware he took my family throne and tried to have me murdered?" 

"I didn't even know he was my father until after he was dead." Gendry admitted. Rhaella held her breath, fingers poised around her wine glass as she waited for the fallout. 

"Yes. He's dead, his brothers are too. So who is Lord of Storm's End now?" 

"I don't know, Your Grace." 

"Does anyone?" Daenerys asked. When she was met with silence form the crowd, she continued. "I think  _you_ should be Lord of Storm's End." 

Rhaella felt her jaw slacken in shock at her sisters statement. "Is she-" She rasped, rubbing her hand against her face. "Is she going to-" 

"Legitimize him?" Jaime whispered in awe. "Yes, I think she might."

They turned their attention back to Daenerys and Gendry. "You are Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End." She declared. "The lawful son of Robert Baratheon, because _that_ is what I have made you." 

Ser Davos stood to his feet and rose his glass. "To Lord Gendry Baratheon, of Storm's End."

One by one, the people in the Great Hall of Winterfell stood and rose their glasses in unity. " _Lord Gendry! To Lord Gendry!"_ Daenerys flashed the newly legitimized Lord a smile and watched as he thanked her and returned to his seat. 

Rhaella was seated beside Brienne and Cederic, Podrick on the opposite side of the table with Jaime. Rhaella covered her glass as she did not wish to take anymore wine, to which Jaime denied her and grabbed his hand with her flesh one. "We fought dead things and lived to talk about it," He said. " _You_ rode a dragon and did the same. If this isn't the time to drink, I don't know when is." 

Electric shocks were still circling her knuckles where he'd touched her. It amazed Rhaella how open Jaime was to the littlest actions when Cersei wasn't around. 

Her attention was drawn elsewhere when Tyrion appeared behind her and whispered in her ear that in the corner by the fireplace, Bran Stark was in urgent need of speaking to her. "Gentlemen, Lady Knight," She said. "I must bid you farewell for a time. It seems the Lord of Winterfell has need of me." 

"Don't take too long, My Lady." Cederic called out. Rhaella resisted the urge to snicker at the indignation in Jaime's expression. "We have  _so_ much to talk about." 

There was something _off_ in the way Brandon looked at her when she approached. Like he had an ancient secret to whisper in her ear that only he knew, and it was time to be brought into the open. "Lady Targaryen," He greeted in that ever-so-dull monotone. "I was wondering if you'd accompany me outside. It is awfully crowded in here, and I wish to speak in private." 

Rhaella nodded and gripped the back of his wheelchair, careful to mind putting weight on her ankle as she rolled him through the halls of Winterfell. "Tyrion said you wanted to speak to me." She replied. "Anything about? We have not spoken at length since I arrived." 

"I thought Jon would've said something to you by now, but it appears he hasn't." Rhaella stopped just inside the doorway that overlooked the ruin of Winterfell's courtyard and stepped around the elder Stark son to look at him. "There is an unknown secret regarding your elder brother I feel it is imperative for you to know." 

All the air in her lungs dissipated at the statement. " _Rhaegar?_ " She breathed. "But-Why are you only telling me now? And how long has it been a secret?" 

"Since before your brother fell on The Trident." He closed his eyes. "I can see the two of you, so young, arguing about my aunt and why Rhaegar had to leave without telling you where he was going. You were devastated to lose your elder brother, one of your three friends in the world at the time." 

She resisted the urge to let the tears blurring her vision of him fall. "My brother was a  _fool,_ Bran." Rhaella snarled. "And oh, I _adored_ him, but he chose love over family and I never really forgave him for that. He's just another one of my ghosts that haunts me wherever I go." 

Bran shook his head. "No. He may have abandoned Elia Martell, but he did not do it the way you think he did." Rhaella tried to not think of the bodies of Aegon and Rhaenys that had been found after the Sack of King's Landing, covered in blood and swaddled in Lannister scarlet. "Rhaegar had his marriage to Elia annulled and engaged my aunt, Lyanna Stark, in a secret marriage in Dorne." 

_They say Rhaegar kidnapped the Stark girl and raped her. What kind of King would engage in such a heinous act?_

"How do you know this? Did you  _see it_?" 

Brandon nodded. "And Samwell Tarly confirmed it." He replied. "He read about it in a High Septon's diary during his tenure at The Citadel. That is not all of it, however." Rhaella waited for him to continue. "She stayed at The Tower of Joy in the Red Mountains in Dorne, heavily pregnant with child. Lyanna died in her birthing bed just after Rhaegar fell on the Trident and had a son. Aegon Targaryen." Rhaella rolled her eyes at the repetitive use of the Targaryen name. Redundancy was so _boring._ "She knew Robert Baratheon would've murdered the child as he would've done the same to you, and so she asked her brother Ned Stark to raise him as his own." 

Realization smacked her in the face. 

"Are you telling me that  _Jon Snow_ , The King in the North and current Warden of the North, is the last male heir and therefore has the strong claim to the Iron Throne?" 

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm telling you." Bran's eyes met hers urgently. "You cannot tell anyone else, Princess. It is of the most importance this be kept secret." 

"Of course, My Lord." She feigned a smile and motioned to the Great Hall. "Ready to go back?" Bran nodded and Rhaella wrapped her hands around the grips of his wheelchair and began towards The Great Hall. 

The color drained from her face as she continued to push him. That meant Daenerys had actively engaged herself with her  _nephew_ , who was also a Stark and most definitely had the approval of Sansa and Arya,  _and_ now had competition for The Iron Throne. 

 _Seven_ _Hells,_ that put a wrench in Daenerys' plans. 

****

 

Jaime knew something was wrong the moment Rhaella returned to the table, but judging from the look she was giving him, she wasn't intent on speaking of it right now so he let it slide. What he  _wasn't_ going to let slide for much longer was the looks that Cederic was giving her. 

 _Or_ the way he openly kissed her right in front of him, Tyrion, Brienne and Podrick. The other three believed it to be the alcohol, but Jaime knew better. 

Just out of sight from Jaimes eyes, Rhaella smirked at Cederic and wiggled her eyebrows as he adjusted his thumbs pressed against her lips. It had appeared he'd taken her mouth with his own rather  _hard_ and passionate in front of her friends, but it was an act just as the flirtatious nature of their relationship was. It seemed Jaime was getting closer and closer to his breaking point. 

"Your turn." Tyrion said as he refilled his wine glass. Rhaella smiled as she nestled herself into her spot beside Brienne, watching how the Lannister brothers acted. They were so stupidly sentimental it was almost adorable. 

Or maybe it was the alcohol. 

"You are an only child." Jaime said to Brienne, who guffawed in reply as the other four watched them. 

"I told you I was." 

"You didn't." Jaime retorted. 

"I  _did._ " Brienne replied. 

"I surmised!" 

Tyrion motioned to her glass. "Drink!" He commanded. "And then it is Jaime's turn to ask Rhaella." Rhaella tried to ignore the curve of Cederic's fingers on her hip as she rested her chin in her hand and met Jaimes piercing gaze. 

" _You_ had your first kiss with Ser Addam Marbrand during court when you were.. hm.." He tilted his head. " _Ten_." 

" _Wrong!_ " Rhaella sang. "It wasn't Addam Marbrand, he was  _your_ best friend and only ever made eyes at people who  _weren't_ me. Drink, you fool!" Laughter rang out around them as Jaime lifted his glass and took a sip of his wine. 

"Go again, Jaime." 

"Why does he get to go again?!" Brienne exclaimed. 

"Because it's my game!" Tyrion replied. The eyes he shared with his brother flickered between the two women in front of them. "Ask Brienne this time. Let's see how well you really know these two." 

Jaime held up a single finger. "You have danced with Renly Baratheon." 

Brienne cast a look at her squire-turned-son as if to say _is he serious? is he really going to keep asking such ridiculous questions he already knows the answers to?_

"Drink!" 

Brienne downed the last of her wine and reached for the pitcher. Jaime turned his attention to Rhaella. "The first time you ever held a training sword, you said you wished you could die and be resurrected as Visenya Targaryen." Gods, Rhaella hadn't thought about their earliest training in  _decades._ How did Jaime suddenly remember all of this stuff? "And then you said Visenya would kill me because she had no need of men other then her dragon." 

Rhaella pounded her fist against the table and laughed. "Of all the days to remember my foolish childhood," She muttered. " _Fine._ " The last of the wine slipped past her lips and warmed her throat as it settled in her belly. "My turn." 

Daenerys sat at The High Table alone for the first time in her entire life, emotions hidden by the overwhelming sense of loneliness that suddenly flooded through her. She could see the glint of silver hair that belonged to her sister sitting beside Ser Brienne of Tarth and Ser Cederic, across from Jaime and Tyrion Lannister. People  _loved_ and  _respected_ Rhaella Targaryen because she'd been born here, raised here, and nearly sacrificed her life to defend Winterfell. She was who the people most likely wanted to sit on the Iron Throne. 

Then Jon, the man she loved  _and_ her nephew, was swarmed by his cousin and the Wildlings like the proper King he could've been, attention stolen by the cheers for a King who hadn't even done what the Wildling had claimed. Jon hadn't been on Rhaegal during the Battle, he'd been with Arya in search of Brandon. 

Rhaella didn't see her sister flee the Great Hall with Varys on her heels. She didn't feel the way Daenerys' mind was splitting apart, overwhelmed by how much she had lost and how far she still had to go to obtain what she desired. 

She would splinter, and then she'd crack and  _everything_ would emerge - rage, chaos, destruction - and The Mad King and his legacy would be brought to life by the one they'd call The Mad Queen. That was only if she allowed her anger to own her, and she didn't own it. 

"Wrong, wrong, wrong! Drink!" Brienne shouted. Tyrion grinned behind the rim of his wine glass. "You were married  _before_ Sansa." Jaime turned to his brother and jabbed a finger at him. That entire charade had been his mistake and one that had greatly wounded his younger brother's spirit, but it had still happened. 

"Drink!" 

"You're drinking wine, but you prefer ale!" Rhaella shouted before Brienne could interject. 

" _No!"_

A comfortable silence ensued as Brienne, Jaime and Rhaella all looked to the youngest Lannister. The haze from the alcohol that had settled over his mind cleared for a split second before he turned his attention to the Targaryen Princess. 

"You're a virgin." 

Rhaella stiffened and her blood turned cold. Jaime immediately noticed her discomfort, internally fuming at how Tyrion had somehow forgotten that his best friend had been diagnosed with infertility and thus had never.. wait,  _what?_ That hadn't meant she could not have slept with someone, it just meant she couldn't become pregnant! 

"That's a statement about the present." Jaime murmured. The joyful air surrounding their group had died the minute that the ice had crept back into the eyes of the Lady Targaryen, who had yet to say another word as she stared at Tyrion. 

"At no point during the past until this very moment have you slept with a man." He paused. "Or a woman." 

Brienne noted her sister's discomfort and leaned forward to slap some sense into Tyrion. " _Fool."_ She hissed. Rhaella shot to her feet and did not dare to utter another word at the youngest Lannister. She would've ended up saying something she'd regret later. 

"I wish to check on the Queen." She said icily. 

Jaime waited until she was far enough way to step into Cederic's path as he attempted to follow her. "I don't think she wants your attention right now, you bumbling fool." He whispered lowly. "So, for your best interests, I'd suggest that you do not come near The Princess ever again. If you do, and you hurt her, I'll cut off your most precious parts and feed them to her dragon." 

Jaime Lannister left Ser Cederic gaping in his wake. That comment alone meant he'd done his part. Ser Jaime would have to do the rest. 

***

How could Tyrion have been so  _callous?_

Rhaella pressed her lips together in a thin line as she threw another log onto the fire. She had taken a tiny amount of milk of the poppy to reduce the pain in her ankle and had changed into a loosely knotted tunic and trousers, leaving her feet bare as she moved around her chambers. No one had thought to follow her when she'd fled the Great Hall. 

Being infertile was her curse in life, sure, but it didn't mean that she couldn't sleep with someone. She could've used that as a mechanism to cope with the fact she'd never marry, but she'd chosen not to, and so she'd never been with anyone. Many people had been interested in her, but none of the relationships had ever gone past kissing. She didn't want to give her heart away to someone who wasn't worthy of it. 

And she didn't want to give  _herself_ to just anyone. 

A knock resounded at the door.  _I guess someone followed me after all._ Rhaella moved away from the fire and poised her hand around the knob, eyes widening as she realized it was Jaime standing on the other side. 

It seemed their plan had worked. 

"You didn't drink." 

She rose an eyebrow. "I didn't  _drink?_ " Blue eyes watched as he sat down the glasses he'd brought with him and the pitcher of Dornish wine they'd been consuming earlier that night. 

"You didn't drink in the game." Jaime replied. "This is Dornish." 

"And  _you_ are still drunk." She whispered to herself. The words seemed to have no effect as he overfilled their glasses and she washed the excess liquid fall onto the table. "This is not the game, Jaime. This is only drinking." 

He extended the glass to her. "Suit yourself." After taking a sip of the wine, Rhaella lifted her gaze only to realize that he was watching her intently, pupils dilated from the alcohol and lips parted as she ran her tongue over the seam of her lips. "You keep it bloody warm in here." 

"It's the first thing I learned when I came North, you fool." She mused. Jaime grimaced as he attempted to remove his jerkin in a suave manner as his former self, The Smiling Knight and the one with two hands, would've done. "Targaryens don't fare well in the cold. Every time you leave the room, put more wood on." 

"That's very diligent, very responsible for a princess." 

"Oh, piss off-"

"You know what I learned when I came North?" They were eye to eye now, close enough to touch. "I  _hate_ the North." That much was obvious, he had been nothing but sour since he'd arrived. 

"It grows on you." Rhaella said. 

" _I don't want things growing on me._ " Jaime replied. "How about Ser Cedric Whatever His Name Is? Has  _he_ grown on you? He was sad when you left." There was a venom, an underlying mark of jealousy to his tone.  _Our plan worked then._

Rhaella flashed an incredulous look. "You really are a fool, Lannister." She snapped. "Cederic and I have been friends since the  _day_ we met, I did harbor attraction toward him because he treated me like a human being and I didn't have to compete with anyone else in order to give him my heart." Jaime stiffened at the words, his back to her, eyes cast downward. "But then you came North, and that changed. You, however, sound.. jealous." 

Her voice dropped to a whisper. 

"I do, don't I?" 

The overwhelming realization of what was occurring hit them both in that moment. This was something she'd waited lifetimes for, something she never thought she was be given. She'd loved him and lost him and had him and let him slip away, but yet here the gods had brought them...  _together._ After weeks of doubting where his true allegiances lie, Jaime Lannister came North for her and fought a war  _with_ her, and by some miracle, they were still  _alive._

No more dancing around each other. They had the moment, and she would seize it. 

Rhaella never tore her eyes away from Jaime, even as he once again commented about the weather and tried to, though unsuccessfully, unknot his tunic. 

Her hands shot out of their own accord, and Jaime stiffened as her fingers wound around the knot to undo it. It was a futile but adorable attempt at his version of seduction, something he'd never had to do with Cersei because she had  _always_ been open for him. Open and greedy and desperate to take what she thought she deserved. 

Jaime knew the difference here: He knew he didn't and would never deserve Rhaella Targaryen. 

"Oh, move aside!" The minute her fingers began working away at the knot, he lifted his free hand and began to undo the knot on her own shirt. "Jaime.. what're you doing?" 

"Taking your shirt off." He said quietly. She could see him waiting for the inevitable stab of rejection, the  _i've waited for you and i don't deserve you after all the times i've hurt you so i understand if you don't want the same thing I want._

Rhaella made quick work of the knots descending down her shirt and lifted her gaze back to Jaime. She'd never seen a man so full of adoration before. She reached down and removed his shirt from where it was tucked into his pants, maneuvering it up and over his head before tossing it into the corner. 

Her eyes fell on his golden hand. 

"I want that off." She cradled the appendage in her hand and noted the sharp intake of breath that came from him. "Jaime,  _this_ is a constant reminder to you of how you supposedly failed your sister. She mocked and humiliated you and felt you were somehow  _less then_ and so she made you get this god-forsaken hand. But you... oh you..." Rhaella held the leather straps to her lips and kissed the skin just opposite of it. He shuddered at such  _gentle_ contact. "Your sacrifice was not in vain, it was noble and valiant and everything that embodies the man standing in front of me. I love you. _This_ man is the Jaime I was talking about when I left the Siege at the Twins. Now please.. Let me take it off." 

His heart stopped. Wait a minute.. had she just said _I love you?_

"Tell me again." Jaime said as she slowly undid the straps off the golden hand until it fell right into her palm, and she carefully laid it on the table. He said it with such fervor as he bent over and buried his face in the crook of her neck that it takes all her self control to not bury her face in his greying hair and hide with him forever. "What you've said just now. Tell me again." 

Rhaella threw her shirt off. Wounded and bare, vulnerable and open to the one man she never thought she'd be allowed to have. The one she never thought would love her. 

"I love you." She whispered. 

"And I pray it be truth."

[AUTHORS NOTE: I don't write smut and even if I tried, I would not do it well, but what you're reading now will be post-smut. Sorry guys!] 

Jaime had never experienced the feeling that had settled in his stomach when all was said and done and the two of them collapsed beside one another before Rhaella promptly fell asleep. Coated in a light sheen of sweat and exhilarated by what had just occurred, he turned on his side to look at the woman beside him. 

Alot had been said when she opened herself to him. Rhaella had shown him the deepest parts of herself, the things that hurt her that he had done and the things she loved about him. Whispered words of  _i love you_ and _the best of men_ and  _we waited lifetimes, and now we're here_ as he plunged deeper and deeper and  _gods_ he hadn't ever expected being with her to be so... intimate. It wasn’t as if he had anything to compare to. She was the first woman he’d ever been with who desired him as much as he desired her, who took and gave in return and cradled the fractured remains of his heart with such gentleness that he knew it was safest in her hands. 

And when she'd lost her maidenhead, she didn't cry. She didn't experience the shock of pain most women talked about when losing their maidenhead. Rhaella Targaryen didn't cry about most things, but oh how she  _wept_ when Jaime leaned forward and whispered  _I love you too_ in her ear just before he spent himself on her stomach. 

He knew then, in that moment of silence as he watched her sleep. Jaime Lannister knew then that The Dragon Princess was going to be his wife. 

He fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in years. 

*** 

Days passed. Reconstruction on Winterfell began, the injured began healing, and the war plans were solidified. There were whispers that The Kingslayer had coaxed The Princess into his bed and forcefully taken her maidenhead from her, but anyone who knew Rhaella Targaryen knew that she would not let just any man into her bed. Sansa and Arya were not thrilled at the prospect of someone they admired and cared for sleeping with a man who had once tried to destroy their House, but they trusted Rhaella and Brienne, and so began to trust Jaime in return. 

The Northerners, including Cederic, were not so easy. 

"Half are gone.'' A small group was standing around the unfolded map of Westeros where they'd laid pawns out to signify the men who had helped in fighting The Long Night. It seemed their numbers had greatly diminished. 

"The Northmen as well." Jon interjected, pulling another fraction of pawns away. 

"And The Golden Company has arrived in King's Landing," Varys said. Daenerys grimaced as he placed a pawn at the capital city. "Courtesy of the Greyjoy fleet. The numbers are distressingly even." 

"When the people find out what we have done for them, that we  _saved_ them-" 

"Cersei will make sure they don't believe it." Daenerys said to Missandei. "We will hit her hard. We will rip her out root and stem." 

"The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying King's Landing." Tyrion said, almost as if he were trying to remind the Queen of their true intentions. 

"Thankfully, she is losing allies by the day. Yara Greyjoy has retaken The Iron Islands in her Queen's name, and the new Prince of Dorne had given his full support." 

"No matter how many lords turn against her, as long as she sits on the Iron Throne she can call herself  _Queen of the Seven Kingdoms._ " Her eyes fell to the bolded print on the map, ignorant to her sisters presence in the room. "We need the capital." 

Rhaella had not been formally invited to the meeting and had intended on spending the morning with Jaime who had been rather  _eager_ upon the break of dawn, but she had only joined this meeting at the expense of Tyrion who wouldn't let her hear the end of it if she didn't. He was expressing much concern for the state of her sister's mind. 

"I've seen the people of King's Landing rebel against their King when they were hungry and that was before winter began." He said. "Give them the opportunity and they will cast Cersei aside." 

"We'll surround the city." Jon interjected. "If The Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them. If the Lannisters and The Golden Company attack, we'll defeat them in the field." 

"Once the people see that Cersei is the only enemy, her reign is over." 

"Alright." Daenerys said reluctantly. 

"The men we have left are exhausted. Many of them are wounded. They need to have time to recuperate." Sansa said. 

"How long do you suggest?" 

"I can't say for certain, not without talking to the officers." 

Rhaella could practically  _feel_ the anger radiating off of her sister. Something had happened since the battle, something that most likely had to do with Jon and she hadn't spoken it aloud yet. She wondered if it had to do with his true lineage. That would be just cause for her to be acting the way she was towards Sansa. 

"I came North to fight alongside you at great costs to my armies and myself. Now that the time has come to reciprocate, you want to  _postpone?_ " Daenerys asked coldly. 

"It's not just our people, it's yours. You want throw them into a war they aren't ready to fight?" 

"The longer I leave my enemies alone, the stronger they become." 

The two women eyed each other. 

"The Northern forces will honor their promises," Jon's voice was steady and pointed at his cousins as he turned to face them. "And their allegiance to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." He turned back to Dany. "What you command, we will obey." 

"So, if all are in agreement, Jon and Ser Davos will ride down the Kingsroad with the Northern troops and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied. A smaller group of us will ride for White Harbor and sail from there to Dragonstone with our Queen and the dragons accompanying us from above. Ser Jaime has chosen to remain here as a guest of the Lady of Winterfell." 

Both Brienne and Sansa looked at one another before looking over to Rhaella, who rolled her eyes playfully in return. "Objection." She called out. "If I am to remain here to oversee the repairs of Winterfell, I want  _my_ dragon to remain behind with me in case something happens and I am in need of him." 

"Your wounds are still healing, sister. You wouldn't be able to-" 

Rhaella held a hand up. " _My_ dragon, Dany." She replied. "You put him in  _my_ charge, and so that makes him  _mine._ Rhaegal remains here with me. Drogon is more then enough power for you anyway. He's almost as big if not larger then Balerion the Dread!" 

That was a scary thing to think about. 

"Very well." Daenerys said. "We have won the Great War, and now we will win the last war. In all Seven Kingdoms, men will live without fear and cruelty under their rightful Queen." 

Sansa stared at the departing Targaryen Queen. "Lady Rhaella," She wrapped her hand around her wrist and turned the elder sister back towards her. "I know this isn't something you're keen on doing this day as you yourself are still recuperating, but I'd like you to be here for this conversation we're about to have with Jon." 

"I respect you and Arya, Sansa." Rhaella murmured, settling her hand over top her shoulder. "I am elated that you care enough about myself to let Jaime stay here with me. Never in my life would I anticipate earning the trust of Northerners, much less the Starks. However, your opinion of my sister and her reign is not something I want business taking part in at the moment. You four are the last of the Starks, the last of your House. Discuss it between yourselves." 

Sansa nodded curtly. "Very well." 

Rhaella departed from the Stark sisters and ventured through the castle until she came upon her chambers. She quietly opened the door and smiled at the sight in front of her. Jaime was standing in front of the window, trousers loosened and hanging low on his hips while he struggled to knot the neck of his tunic. His hair was mussed, hanging low over bleary green eyes as he watched the people of Winterfell go about their daily routines in the courtyard. 

It was all so  _domestic._

"I see The Golden Lion has been reduced to a lounging housecat." She mused. Jaime's body softened as she curved herself around his back, resting her chin on his shoulder as he knotted their fingers together where they rested against his chest. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You're not getting any older." 

Jaime laughed quietly. She loved that sound,  _breathed_ the sound of his real, genuine laughter. 

"What a shame." He retorted. "You're older and you keep getting more and more beautiful every time I look at you." 

"Did you just wake up, hm?" 

"I have been awake for a while now." He'd considered going to Gendry and asking him to fashion another ring identical to the one that never left his neck, but he was still exhausted and wanted nothing more then to spend the day in  _their_ bed with his lady. It could wait until tomorrow. "Have been waiting for you to return to our bed, My Princess. How did the meeting go?" 

"Sansa and Daenerys don't trust each other." Rhaella buried her face in his shoulder blades and deeply inhaled that familiar scent that clung to his skin. "Expected, given the past circumstances between our Houses. I hope me staying here to oversee repairs changes that given what comes next, but who knows." She turned Jaime around in her embrace and brushed his hair back away from his face. "I like the beard. It suits you." 

"It also looks  _delicious_ buried-" 

She silenced his banter with a heated kiss and dragged him in the direction of their bed. 

Ah... it was  _good_ to be home. 

*** 

After she parted from his side to attend to the matter of her sister, Jaime went to the smith and asked Gendry for a very simple request: A wedding band. Nothing too ornate, but he wanted it to be fashioned the same way that Rhaella had fashioned the golden band with the Lannister sigil engraved into it. 

"What's it for, My Lord?" 

" _Lord Gendry,_ " Jaime said lowly, careful that no one else would hear them. "I'm afraid I'm going to ask the Princess of Dragonstone to marry me. Then she'll be The Lady of Casterly Rock." Gendry's eyes widened, obviously stunned, but thrilled nonetheless. " _My_ Lady." 

What a dream. 

"Congratulations!" He replied eagerly. "I'll take a look at the gold band she had made for you and make something similar with whatever metal they have here. It might not be the gold of King's Landing, but it'll be a fit wedding band." 

The exceptionally talented smith now Lord of Storm's End had the wedding band finished in three hours, and Jaime had tucked it into his cloak to show to Tyrion when his brother called for him to join him that night. 

"So you're going to stay here with her, hm?" Tyrion asked as they sat in front of the fire.  They were at an inn, of all places, and one of the few places in Winterfell no one would bother them. Tyrion was set to depart in the morning. 

"She's staying to oversee the repairs on Winterfell and ensure that the allegiance between the Starks and the Targaryens holds." Jaime said. There was a look to his brothers eyes, a smug pride he often saw when Tyrion felt he was right. "Oh, say something snide already." 

" _Gods_ above, I never thought I'd see the day!" He exclaimed. "I'm happy you're happy! I'm happy that you two  _finally_ got your act together and showed each other that you've loved each other for decades! It was becoming painful to watch!" They clinked their glasses together and drank. "What's she like down there?" 

" _What?_ " Jaime nearly spit his wine out. "How callous can you be, Tyrion? Rhaella is  _your_ best friend! That's not your concern!" 

"I haven't been with a woman for  _years._ Give me a morsel!" 

"You're a dog!" Jaime exclaimed. "Rhaella Targaryen saved your skin more times then I did when we were children, she's your best friend  _and_ the sister to your Queen and you still have the audacity to ask that?!" 

"I'm the Imp and I demand to know!" 

"I _knew_ it." His blood ran cold at the sound of Bronn's voice, and both the brothers snapped towards the door to watch as the sellsword entered the room. "The Targaryen Princess was far too pretty for you to ignore, wasn't she? One of the very first things I heard about shacking up with a Targ?" He waited to see if either brother would answer. "You’d rather hang yourself then shack up with a Targ. Nothing but chaos and bloodshed between those legs.”

"Ser Bronn of The Black Water." Tyrion greeted. "Where's your drink? And  _what_ are you doing in the North?" 

Alarm rang through Jaime as he eyed the crossbow. "What are you doing with that?" 

"Oh, this? It's for you. For both of you." He sat himself down at the chair opposite Jaime and Tyrion and held the crossbow level. "Year after year of shoveling for you Lannisters and what do I have to show for it?" 

"You're a  _Knight,_ thanks to me." Tyrion snapped. 

"Thanks to me, and that title is worth about as much as a blonde hair from your brother's balls." Jaime didn't understand most of what Tyrion said after that, he was still alarmed that Bronn had come all the way up here and how his presence would most definitely put Rhaella in danger. It meant Cersei was still seeking revenge, seeking bloodshed for his abandonment. "I've never hit a dwarf before, but say another word and I swear I will." 

"See, I don't believe you'd do that-" Tyrion gasped as Bronn lunged outward and punched him square in the nose, causing the younger brother to scramble backwards as Jaime shot up to defend him. "I think you broke my nose!" 

"Couldn't do it on your best day and your best days are  _long_ gone." He turned his attention to Tyrion. "I didn't break your nose, you idiot. I've been breaking noses since I was your size and I know what it sounds like. Now you're going to  _listen._ " The trio sat down once again and Bronn held the crossbow up towards Jaime. "Your sister offered me Riverrun. Nice castle, good lands, plenty of peasants who do what they're told." 

"And you trust  _Cersei?_ " 

''I knew your sister was dead the second I saw those dragons." Bronn said. "Now your army may be torn but I still bet on your Dragon Queen to win. It just so happens that I'm a betting man!" He reached outward for Tyrion's glass and took a sip of wine. "If Cersei is dead, she can't pay up. The odds change if The Dragon Queen's Hand turns up dead along with her sister, maybe a few top generals get picked off one by one all of a sudden." 

"May I speak?" Tyrion asked begrudgingly. 

"Why not? Only death will shut you up." 

"We made a deal when we met, do you remember? If anybody paid you to kill me, I'd pay you double." 

Bronn rose an eyebrow. "What is double Riverrun?" He asked. 

" _Highgarden._ You could be Lord of the Reach." 

Jaimes jaw dropped. "Highgarden? Are you  _mad?"_

"Well, it's better then being dead!" Tyrion exclaimed. 

"He's not going to kill us," Jaime argued. "Otherwise we wouldn't be talking-" The whistle of a crossbow bolt rang in his ears as Bronn squeezed the trigger and the bolt impaled itself just beside his shoulder. It was clear given their reactions that they'd never expected Bronn to act. 

"The way I see it, I only need  _one_ of the Lannister brothers alive." Bronn admitted. 

"Highgarden will never belong to a cutthroat." Jaime said. 

"Who are your ancestors, the ones who made your family rich? Fancy lads in silk? Or cutthroats? That's how all the great Houses started, isn't it? Someone who was hired and good at killing people. Kill a few hundred people, they make you a Lord. Kill a few thousand? They make you King." He downed the last of the wine and slammed the glass against the table. "Highgarden. Give me your word." 

Tyrion was the only to reply. "You have my word." He said. "None of this means a thing until we take King's Landing. We ride south in the morning and could use an officer with the knowledge of the city's defenses." 

"Oh no. My fighting days are done." Bronn replied. "But I've still got a few killing days left, do you hear me? I'll come find you when the war is done. Until then, don't die." The sellsword held the crossbow to his hip, eyed the brothers, and then left the room. 

Jaime waited a fraction of a second before he set the box containing the wedding ring on the table. 

"I'm going to marry Rhaella Targaryen. When this war is over, I'm going to marry her." Raucous laughter erupted from his brother, who was still clearly stunned by what had just occurred. "And she's going to be your good-sister." 

*** 

Daenerys pressed the whisper of a kiss to her sisters brow before she left the next morning. She'd promised to send word when they took the Capital which was when she'd could come down to join her in taking the Iron Throne. Dany wanted her sister to be there for the very thing Jorah had died for. 

"Keep Rhaegal safe." Daenerys whispered. "And yourself safe too. I'll send word as soon as I can." 

"I will." Rhaella replied as she enveloped Daenerys in a hug. Missandei smiled from where she stood a few feet away watching the Targaryen sisters bid each other farewell. It warmed her heart to know that someone like Rhaella would be there for the beginning of The Khaleesi's reign over Westeros. That she would keep her sister in line and check her worst impulses when they arose. "I must speak to Tyrion before you depart." A pause. "I love you." 

"I love you too, sister." 

Tyrion was still reeling from his conversation with Jaime the night before and with what Sansa had just told him, he found it hard to believe Rhaella had yet to say anything about it. "Ah, My Lady." He greeted. "I trust you'll take care of my foolish brother for me while I'm gone?" 

Rhaella nodded. "Of course, Tyrion." She hesitated a moment before leading him further away from the crowd they were in. "Tyrion, I feel you must know about Aerys’ madness. I was a first hand witness to his downfall, as was your brother. Do you know what triggered his madness? It was loss. My mother had numerous miscarriages and all the death, all the carnage he witnessed. It drove him mad with paranoia and brought him to his knees with a sword in his back by his end. Daenerys is heading down the same path. I thought she’d avoided it..” Jorahs blue eyes, now dark and closed and his ashes scattered across Winterfell, flashed in her mind. “But her husband was the start of it, and Jorah is just in the line of succession to where it will eventually break her if she has to keep enduring loss. I fear her end will also be at the foot of the Throne. Please.. please let me be wrong.” 

Tyrion saw the obvious fear in her eyes and reached outward to grasp the hands of his best friend. Of all the people Jaime could marry, he was glad it was her. 

"Rhaella, look at me." Kind green eyes met frightened blue. "I distinctly remember a young silver haired girl telling me on a regular basis she would not be like the Targaryens who came before her. I think the true is same of Daenerys. She is not your father."  _That has yet to be seen._ "But because you asked, yes. I will watch over her." 

Relief flooded her body as she knelt and enveloped the youngest Lannister in a crushing hug. Tyrion was glad for the contact and eagerly awaited the next time he would receive it, after Daenerys took the capital and her throne along with it. "Goodbye, Tyrion." Rhaella whispered into a mass of curls. "We will meet again." 

_Hopefully under different circumstances._

She watched Daenerys, Jon, Ser Davos  and Tyrion leave through the front gates of Winterfell and felt considerably empty when she realized that the majority of the people she cared about had departed for the South. All that remained of her family was Brienne, the Stark girls, and Jaime. 

 _Jaime._ Speaking of.. where _was_ Jaime? 

"My Lady," Podrick called out to draw her from her trance, smiling warmly as he extended his arm towards the training area where the soldiers often sparred. "I think you'll want to see this." 

What Rhaella was unaware of, however, was that Brienne had been listening to Jaime talk about  _how_ and  _when_ he would plan on proposing to The Dragon Princess. Given the circumstances he seemed to believe it would be better to do it after the war was over, but Jaime seemed all too eager to marry Rhaella as soon as possible. 

The moment she appeared in her peripheral view, talks of ceremonies ceased and she strengthened her attacks against Jaime, who moved with the grace of a green-boy that had just begun to master the art of swordplay. It still amazed her how  _well_ he fought despite the lack of his real sword hand. 

Rhaella watched in wonder. Brienne pressed harder, each attack relying on brute strength, and  _somehow_ she had managed to knock Jaime clear off of his feet and pin him to the ground with her knee against her chest. 

"Do you yield  _now?_ " 

Jaime did not recognize the presence of Podrick or Rhaella until he heard her laughter and tilted his head back just enough to recognize her boots coming towards him. "Well well," She tutted. "Ser Jaime Lannister, defeated by the very woman he knighted of his own accord. Do you feel like-" 

"I was beaten by a valiant knight who clearly knows what she's doing." He extended his good hand and allowed Brienne to pull him to his feet, brushing the snow off of his armor as she did. "And a dear friend who brought aid when I needed it most." Brienne smirked as Jaime bowed. "My thanks, Ser Brienne." 

"I believe you'll know when the time is right to do what we discussed, Ser Jaime." 

***

" _Don't you think that the best ruler might be one who doesn't want the throne at all?"_

Now that Tyrion had informed Varys of Jon Snow's true heritage, he and the Spider were in deep conversation about what it would mean for when and  _if_ Daenerys Targaryen was the one who ended up sitting on The Iron Throne. Drogon had very nearly been struck by three Scorpion bolts in the skies from Euron Greyjoys fleet, and something told him that Rhaella was right to keep Rhaegal in Winterfell with her. 

But oh, their Queen was  _angry._

There had to be another way to do this. Another way for Jon  _and_ Daenerys to rule together, despite the fact that she was his aunt, any other alternative would have been better then committing treason against the very woman who had made him her Hand! 

"Next to Jon, Rhaella holds the next best claim to the Throne." Tyrion felt his blood run cold as he lifted his eyes to look at The Spider. "Speaking of people who don't wish to have the throne, I could not think of a better Queen who would serve the realm then her." 

"She hasn't  _ever_ wanted the Iron Throne. She's not.. she's not a conqueror, she's not as strong as her sister-" 

"But she  _could_ be. I saw her with the Dothraki and the Unsullied. Rhaella commands respect everywhere she goes and that is a known fact. It has nothing to do with her House. It has everything to do with her character.  _She_ is the kind of Queen that the people would love and fear all the same. I will act in the interest of the realm, no matter the personal cost." 

"Rhaella will never take the throne away from her sister. She's spent too much time and Jorah  _died_ to ensure Daenerys took the thing she believes to her destiny, her  _birthright._ " He had been drinking too much, that was sure, but the wine coursing through his veins was easing his growing reluctance. "So what happens to her?" 

Varys gave him a knowing look. 

" _Please_ ," Tyrion begged. "Please don't." 

"I've spoken as honestly as I can. Each of us has a choice to make. I pray we choose wisely." Casting one last look to the youngest Lannister, Varys turned on his heel and left the throne room at Dragonstone. 

Tyrion felt the cold emptiness envelop his aching heart. 

***

_Marry me. Marry me, be with me. There's nothing I've wanted more in life._

Jaime walked underneath the archway in Winterfell's main courtyard in search of Brienne and Sansa. Rhaella had left early that morning with a whisper of a kiss against his lips and promises to join him for dinner that night, but he had not heard from her since. She was most likely supervising the continuing repairs. 

Or so he thought. 

"This is.. devastating news. I can't say I'm entirely surprised though." Her voice rang out clear and Jaime followed it to the root, where Brienne was standing in deep conversation with Sansa and Rhaella. "This makes me feel better about leaving Rhaegal here. That scorpion bolt would've killed him for sure." 

"What do you suppose Daenerys will do about her fleet and Missandei?" 

"If Missandei dies.." A pause ensued. Jaime imagined her brow was furrowed, eyes softened with the concern she had for her sister's state of mind. Many nights they'd spent together had been in the others arms, whispering confessions about the people they'd lost over the years. She'd held him to her chest and listened to his unspoken guilt over Myrcella and Tommen, the children he'd never been able to father. She ran her fingers through his hair and whispered her apologies, that he would've been a most beloved father had he been given the opportunity. He had done the same for her and listened to her grief over Ser Jorah, a most honorable man who had died in service to his Queen and Princess. "I fear all will be lost." 

Jaime showed himself and Sansa noticed him almost immediately.

"What has happened?" 

Rhaella nodded to Brienne to tell him. "Queen Daenerys and her fleet were ambushed. Several ships destroyed, Missandei captured, and Drogon nearly injured." 

The cold look in the eyes of the Lady of Winterfell was one Jaime would never forget. He often forgot how Sansa Stark used to want to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and had learned much of what she now knew through sitting beneath his sister. 

"I always wanted to be there when they execute your sister. I guess I won't have the chance." 

Something stirred in his heart then. Something Rhaella saw the moment she met his eyes, and uncertainty crept into her features as she watched Jaime turn away from her and disappear back inside of the castle. 

"He's contemplative. Probably feels he is to blame for Cersei." Brienne said. "Go after him before he does something he'll  _really_ regret." 

Rhaella rushed after the elder Lannister before her best friend could say another word, repeating the same words she'd been thinking since waking up that morning to his sleeping figure. She'd known Jaime almost all of her life, and he'd never looked more at peace then in the earliest moments of the morning when there was no one but him and her.  _Him_ and  _her._

_Marry me. Marry me. Marry me._

He was in their chambers, as expected, having shed his jerkin and was now pacing back and forth in front of the window. Again, she heard it.  _Marry me. Marry me._

"I'm sorry,  _what?_ " 

Rhaella's eyes widened in alarm. "Did I say that out loud?" She asked, laughing nervously as Jaime stopped pacing. "That wasn't my intention-" 

"Yes you did, and I'm  _finally_ glad one of us had the balls to do so." Her jaw dropped as he reached into the pocket of his trousers and produced a finely crafted box. "I had Gendry make this a few weeks ago after The Long Night, just after the first time we were together. I think I knew then when I woke up the next morning that I was going to spend the rest of my life with you." Rhaella was paralyzed, unable to move from her spot by the door as he opened the box and produced the most beautiful gold band she'd ever seen, etched with the House Lannister sigil in the center just as she had done on his own ring before he'd left for Dorne. "I spent so many years chasing after someone who did not wish to have me for  _me._ I hurt you, and hurt you, and  _hurt_ you and yet somehow you still find it in you to wake up every morning alongside a known oathbreaker,  the very man who killed your father, and still somehow manage to love me in spite of that. You were the reason I lost my hand, as was Brienne, and I will never regret that. I will never regret saving your life the day your brother died, I will  _always_ regret the way I treated you, and I will never stop trying to make up for my wrongdoings. I have loved you for longer then I can remember, Rhaella. I don't want to be a Knight, I don't want to be a Lord of Casterly Rock, all I want in my old age is to spend the rest of my life with _you_ somewhere far away from bloodshed and misery and war. Me,  _your_ Jaime, wants  _you_. All of you, forever." Her hands slowly shifted upward to her mouth, eyes glassy with unshed tears as Jaime slowly sank to one knee. "Will you marry me?" 

Every nagging doubt she'd ever had planted by Cersei over the years crept to the surface as she absently stared at his ring. This was another rare opportunity for Jaime - a moment of vulnerability and openness and aching for acceptance - that she had never seen coming, not so close to the end. 

"Are we serious this time?" Her question came as a whisper, but that did nothing to erase the joy shining in his eyes. He was as desperate for this as she was. "You are  _done_ with Cersei? No longer feel the way you have for your entire life? Never have I seen such an unholy passion-" 

"No. Cersei is my sister." Jaime replied firmly. "The way I feel for her is  _done_ , it was done when she threatened to kill you and it was done when I fled King's Landing after she tried to set The Mountain on me. She is everything I despise about the Throne, about myself, and I no longer want any part in it." He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "But she is my sister. That deep love for my family is something I still have." 

He had no reason to lie to her now. Not after all they had been through. 

"Then yes. _Yes._ " She breathed. "I will marry you, Jaime." His smile widened as he took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. "Tonight. I will marry you  _tonight._ No one else around except Brienne and Podrick and the High Septon. I'm sure Sansa would be more then willing to find him if he's still in the vicinity of Winterfell." Rhaella cupped his face in her hands and pressed her forehead to his. "One condition." 

"Anything." He nodded vigorously. "Anything." 

"I want my last name to be hyphenated for the time being. Rhaella Targaryen-Lannister." He cocked an eyebrow as if he didn't understand  _why_ she wanted something so absurd, but he made no move to argue. "Come, fiancé. Let us find the High Septon!"  

***

_Father, Smith, Warrior._

_Mother, Maiden, Crone._

_I am hers (I am his)_

_And she is mine (And he is mine)_

_From this day until the end of my days_

Jaime grimaced as he struggled to finish saddling his horse. He'd only been a married man, a truly  _changed_ man, for a number of hours. This felt like he was reverting to the same cocksure, egotistical Kingsguard he'd been before losing to Robb Stark at the Whispering Wood and coming face to face with his humanity. 

_The ceremony took place in the Godswood with not another soul around except Brienne and Podrick. The High Septon that Sansa had sent for took them through the traditional Westerosi wedding, tied their hands together, and asked them to recite the familiar vows._

Jaime had never felt more joy then in that moment that two became one. He'd waited  _lifetimes_ for this, for the Princess, for the valiant warrior who had faced death and lived. His dragon rider, his confidant, his best friend. She was everything he'd ever been deprived of in a long miserable life. Joy. Peace. Happiness.  _Real_  love. 

And here he was about to throw it all away. 

"They're going to destroy that city." He stopped mid-action and closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. Jaime had been hoping she'd been deeply enough asleep after their first time together as husband and wife to realize he'd fled their wedding bed before the night had even ended. "You know they will." 

"Have you ever run away from a fight?" 

Despite the bitter chill in the air and the fact she wore nothing but a shift and her cloak, Rhaella rushed forward and enveloped his face with her hands, her thumbs gently coming to rest against his temples. **“** I’ve spent my whole life being tormented and tortured by your sister because I happened to fall in love with _you._ I fought to be with you. I did the one thing I said I wouldn’t do and I bled for _you._ And you bled for me, fought for me, protected me and mended me in a way no one else could have.” The look of pure devastation that permeated the greens of his eyes broke her heart in a way she’d never experienced before. “You’re not like your sister, Jaime. You’re _not._ You’re better then she is. You are a good man and you can’t save her. You don't need to die with her.” 

  Jaime exhaled an unsteady breath. “You have so much goodness in you, Rhaella. You are kind and pure and remarkably powerful.. both in your heart for the common people and your defiance in the face of those who dare to cross you. You are a Targaryen, the best of them. You are the woman _I love_ , the best friend I’ve known, the one person who saved me from my own self destruction. There is not a drop of goodness in me.” 

  “ _Jaime-“_

 _“_ I pushed a boy out of a window, crippled him for life, for Cersei. I killed my cousin just to get back to Cersei. I would’ve murdered every man, woman and child in Riverrun for her. She’s hateful, and so am I.” 

He knew the moment she gripped his hips and whirled him back around that leaving Winterfell was going to be a lot more difficult then he originally anticipated. “No one knows hateful like I do. I hated you. I _despised_ you for forgetting me for all those years. I never fought for your gaze because it was always on Cersei. But here we stand, alone, _together_ for the first time without anyone to cast scornful looks or tell us who we can and can’t love.” 

His hand went to her hair and tangled in the loose strands of her braids. He much preferred it loose as she had worn it the years he’d known her, but Daenerys seemed to be having a stronger influence then they both realized. 

  “She’s my sister. I have to.. I have to _try-“_

 _“_ And I’m your _wife._ I made a vow that I intend to keep. From this day to the end of my days. Give me the night, Jaime. Give me the night and you can ride for King's Landing in the morning. One night to just be _us_ for a final time.”

Jaime looked at his wife and then looked at her hand. 

"Okay, sweetheart." He whispered. She smiled despite the tears on her cheeks and kissed him softly before squeezing his hand. "Tonight." 

***

_Meanwhile, at King's Landing_

Tyrion could practically feel the fury radiating off of the younger Targaryen as he came to speak with his sister on the wall leading into the main gate of the city. He could feel her anger over the fact that Missandei was about to die  _alone_ and afraid, fury towards Cersei Lannister and  _rage_ brought upon from her loss. 

This was what Rhaella had warned him about. 

"I know you don't care about your people. Why should you? They hate you and you hate them." He shook his head. "You're not a monster. I know this. I know this because I've seen it. You've always loved your children more then yourself. More then Jaime. More then anything." Tyrion often forgot that grief and anger were deeply rooted at the very heart of his elder sister. "I beg you. If not for yourself, then for your child. Your reign is  _over_ but that doesn't mean your life has to end. It doesn't your baby has to die."

Cersei slowly exhaled through her nose. She looked down to the creature before the city, her city, and wondered how her mother had managed to conceive such a spiteful little man. A little man who loved the sister of the usurper and her fallen, pathetic excuse of a brother. 

Daenerys and Greyworm surged forward as Cersei stepped down and whispered to Missandei. Tyrion kept his gaze fixed upward, silently hoping that his words would work in his favor as they had so many times in the past. 

He winced rather hard as Missandei shouted  _"Dracarys."_ before The Mountain unsheathed his great sword and sliced clean through the vertebrae of her neck, blade dripping with blood as it settled back at his side and Missandei's head fell and body from the parapet and onto the dirt in front of the city gates. 

_Khal Drogo. Rhaego. Jorah. Missandei. Viserion. Rhaegar. Viserys. Rhaella and Aerys._

An endless list of the people she had lost. Jorah would've been able to curb her worst impulses, would've given her reasons to not burn the city to ash and reduce her Kingdom to a graveyard. He would've expelled her demons and warred with her ghosts. 

Daenerys turned sharply away from him and disappeared into the Unsullied spread evenly in battalions across the front of the gates. 

" _What did you call her again?" Tyrion had asked Rhaella over a glass of wine and a roaring fire. It was only a few days after The Long Night, a rare opportunity the two had found themselves alone. "The nickname in Valryian that you gave Cersei. What was it?"_

 _Rhaella smiled over the rim of her glass. "_ _Se muña hen madness."_ _She murmured. "_ _It means The Mother of Madness."_

" _And what would you give your sister?"_

Silence had ensued for thirty seconds. Daenerys had always been a difficult subject to broach with her elder sister. 

_"Se Ribazmoqittys Dāria."_

Drogon's roar echoed in the air. 

" _What does it mean?"_

The dragon soared over the remains of the Unsullied. 

" _The Mad Queen."_

And the world came alive with fire. 


	37. The Battle for King’s Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a race between Rhaella and Jaime: Who can get to Cersei first.  
> Daenerys unleashes Hell upon the people of King’s Landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m baffled at how popular this story became. Just... wow.

This was, without a doubt, certifiably insane. 

" _You're going to do what?! Are you crazy? They're going to demolish that city!"_

Rhaella whipped around and hissed quietly under her breath as Brienne followed her through the side exit of Winterfell just beyond The Broken Tower where she knew Rhaegal was waiting for her. Leaving so much earlier then Jaime would ever anticipate would give her an advantage over her husband, but if she was going to make it to Cersei first, it had to be done. 

"I-Bree, I don't have a choice!" She snapped. "It was a miracle that I managed to keep Jaime here just for the night, but as soon as he realizes I'm gone, he's coming back South with the very  _clear_ intention to save his sister! I don't know about you, but  _I_ very firmly agree with Daenerys that Cersei doesn't deserve to be saved." 

Intending for that to be her last word, Rhaella turned back in the direction of her dragon and was stopped by the disappointment lingering in Brienne's tone. "Even with the babe at stake?" She asked softly. The Princess huffed a sigh of annoyance and turned back around to face her dearest friend. Dawn was sure to break soon, and Jaime would wake thinking he'd be spending their morning together as husband and wife, only to find out he was painfully alone. 

"You had to go and mention it didn't you?" Brienne frowned at the obvious guilt flooding her expression. It was obvious that the baby who supposedly had been sired by Jaime was a hard topic for her to broach. "Seven Hells, Brienne. You  _had_ to mention that baby, didn't you?" 

"Why does it matter now?" Brienne asked. "Why do you suddenly look so.. sad?" 

_Jaime trailed a finger over the swell of her breast and talked for hours about their children, silver haired and green eyed and absolutely eager to learn the art of swordplay like their mother and father. They want to hear the stories of how Daddy saved Mommy from certain death and how Mommy made Daddy a better man. That's when it occurred to Rhaella that she wants a family just as badly as Jaime does, and maybe... just maybe... the Gods would grant her one miracle._

_Just one._

"Jaime wants to be a father, Brienne." Rhaella murmured as she pulled her new cloak tighter around herself. "I've spent my entire life under the belief that I'd never be able to conceive a child because of my supposed infertility, but Jaime has spent the last week and a half telling me that Cersei would never let the Grand Maester near her because he was always wrong. There's this," She snapped her fingers. "Flicker of  _hope_ in me that once she's  _dead,_ maybe the Gods will give me my miracle. I'll have a child conceived with the man I love and Jaime can finally,  _finally_ rest." Her eyes fluttered shut. "I'll do whatever I have to. No matter the cost." 

"And what of your servant?" 

Sansa had been kind in taking Alice under her wing since the elder twin had lost her younger during The Long Night, when one of the long-dead Stark corpses had dragged her into the shadows of the Crypt and killed her. "Sansa has very kindly agreed to keep Alice as her servant." Rhaella said. "The poor girl can do better then me now. Better she's up here, safely away from war, with someone who can give her a better life then I can." 

_She's done her duty._

Brienne nodded. "I won't stop you then, Rhaella. Just.. please." The Lady Knight cast a look over her shoulder that Rhaella knew far too well. It was the look of someone who desperately needed to be reassured she wasn't about to lose anyone else. Not after they'd endured so much death already. "Try not to die." 

The Dragon Princess rose an eyebrow. "Careful there, Tarth." She mused, eyes shining in the sunlight just beginning to peer over the horizon. "You're sounding oddly sentimental." 

"Well, I am best friends with the soft-hearted Targaryen." 

Goodbyes were not easy for either of them, and so the two women simply nodded before Rhaella turned back to Rhaegal and Brienne turned towards the castle where she knew that Sansa and Podrick would be rising soon, and a new day of repairs would begin. 

*** 

Jaime stretched his sore limbs above his head and allowed his eyes to flutter open to the break of dawn. His hand instinctively reached outward to grasp at the hip of his  _wife_ but found himself grasping at air. 

_No._

His eyes snapped open just as a ferocious pounding echoed at the door of his chambers. Jaime rolled over and reached for the note that Rhaella had left on the pillow, ignoring the frantic calls of his name from outside the door. 

_My Jaime,_

_If you're reading this, I'm already halfway to King's Landing. I love you. I think it's far past time that you learn to finally rest._

_Your wife, Rhaella Lannister_

"Jaime!" That was definitely Brienne. Jaime slowly rose to his feet and desperately tried to ignore the bile rising in his throat as he crossed the chambers and pulled the door open. " _Gods,_ you look terrible. I-" 

"Ser Brienne," He said steadily. Her eyes widened at the anger radiating from him. "Would you be so kind as to tell me  _where_ is my  _wife?_ " Jaime held the letter up between two fingers and watched as Brienne took it, read it, and lifted her eyes to meet his own. 

"I think you know." 

"And you let her leave?" 

"Just because your wife and I are best friends doesn't mean she listens to  _everything_ I say, you fool." Brienne snapped. "I tried and she didn't listen, so I let her go. She's fighting your demons for you. I think you need to let her." 

Jaime called for Alice who had been lingering in the hall with his breakfast. The elder twin had been emotionless since Rhaella had left earlier that morning, most likely feeling as if she had been abandoned and cast aside by all the people she held dear. Despite that, she assisted Jaime in putting on his armor and quietly left the room when her job was completed. His breakfast was left untouched. 

His saddled horse was still outside when he approached the stables. The stable-master let him go without so much as an argument. 

Brienne watched is form disappear through the front gates of Winterfell. 

_I'm coming, Rhaella._

_I'm coming._

***

_How do I get into the city without attracting the attention of the Unsullied?_

Rhaella peered over the shoulders of her beast as she stroked his back, eyes straining to see the landscape that passed beneath her as Rhaegal continued flying towards King's Landing. The closer she got to the city, the more frazzled her mind became as she struggle to clearly think of a plan that would keep her from being seen by her sister or Tyrion. 

With her luck, she'd have to abandon him at the city gates. 

She thought about flying over the city and attacking The Red Keep head on, but that would've drawn the attention of Daenerys and Drogon and that was the last thing she needed to happen. 

_The sewers. The basement of the Keep where they keep the dragon skulls. They'll never suspect someone entering there._

"Okay then." She said. "We're entering the city from the side, where no one else will suspect you, in a castle full of Queensguard and Gold Cloaks.  _That's_ not a suicide mission at all." 

***

_Someone has betrayed me._

Tyrion bristled as he stood in the darkness alongside Greyworm and Daenerys, both of which were glaring at the exit of Dragonstone where Varys was being lead by two of the Unsullied. Daenerys had immediately accused Jon  _and_ Rhaella of having confessed his true lineage to Sansa and attempting to take the Iron Throne from her. 

He'd heard stories about the Dothraki admitting defeat by removing their braids and cutting their hair. He never thought he'd see Daenerys do it. She reminded him of the frightened girl who had died on the Dothraki Sea, the one who had known cruelty and savagery nearly her entire life, who had begged on the streets to survive and fought for everything she had. 

Rhaella's words echoed in his mind. " _Her state of mine is fragile. I worry she will meet her end at the foot of the Iron Throne as my father once did. Consumed by her madness and drowning in her own blood."_

Tyrion was about to lose his dearest friend. One of the few he had ever known. 

"It was me." He confessed. Varys nodded. It didn't really come as a surprise. 

"I hope I deserve this." He replied. "I truly do. I hope I'm  _wrong._ " The Spider glanced back down at Tyrion and furrowed his brow. "Goodbye, old friend." 

Tyrion hadn't ever really been good at farewells to begin with, so he settled for gently squeezing Varys' arm before turning away from The Spider and watching as he stepped towards Daenerys. 

Daenerys wore no emotion on her face other then pure, controlled anger. She was furious he'd spread the news about Jon and intended to punish him justly for it. 

_Remind you of anyone, Tyrion?_

"Lord Varys." Daenerys spoke. "I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of My Name, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons," Fear settled low in his belly as Drogon emerged from the darkness, baring his teeth in a snarl as he waited for the command of his mother. "Sentence you to die." 

A beat passed. He prayed that wherever she was, Rhaella would make her sister see reason and do whatever it took to keep her off of the Iron Throne.

"Dracarys." 

And the world was consumed by flame. He knew nothing but the darkness. 

*** 

Daenerys had heard the words from the mouth of her own sister. She'd seen them play out in front of her during the celebration after The Long Night, watched on in silence as people swarmed her sister and Jon. Rhaella might not have had the command of two of the best armies in the world, but she commanded  _respect_ and held an air of authority that showed she had remarkable potential to rule. Jon did the same. He might not have been a dragon-rider as they were, but he was just as much Targaryen as Daenerys and Rhaella. 

Rhaella had the love. 

Dany had the fear. 

" _Far more people in Westeros love you and my sister then love me._ " The flames flickered against the blues of her eyes, and The Dragon Queen lifted them to meet those of the man she loved. "I don't have love here. I only have fear." 

"I love you." She already knew that. She knew that and he said it but Jon  _refused_ to act on it because he was raised a Stark and she was a Targaryen, they were bred of two different worlds and he would never act on his affection because it would mean scorn and slander and that was something he was not okay with. "You will always be my Queen." 

"Is that all I am? Your Queen?" Dany was close enough to feel his breath fan across her face, feel the warmth of his skin and see the firelight flicker in his eyes. She kissed him, and she kissed him  _hard,_ hoping that he'd see her perspective and simply  _follow_ her with it. She wanted him, and he wanted her. Why was this not as easy as Rhaella and The Kingslayer? 

Jon did not move. He did not speak. He simply pulled away and gazed at her with a longing expression that screamed  _I want you but we cannot do this, we cannot abide by the old rules, we are the same but are born of different worlds and I can't follow your old customs into a new world._

Her vulnerability - the gaze of the little girl she'd been before marrying Khal Drogo - was replaced by cold, hard blue eyes that narrowed on him as she stepped further away and widened the growing rift between them. Jon only ever saw one clear emotion in her expression now. 

Rage.

"Alright then." Daenerys said. "Let it be fear." 

***

Tyrion was almost positive he was hearing in another language when Daenerys told him that Jaime had been taken prisoner and was being held in the camp outside of King's Landing. 

If he was here, then where was Rhaella? 

"How did they find you?" 

Jaime was leaning against the center post in the middle of the supply tent, a tired smile on his face at the sound of his younger brother's voice. He held up his gold hand in reply. 

  "Did you consider taking it off?" He asked. 

"Cersei once called me the stupidest Lannister." Jaime replied. "My wife made quite an effort to ensure that I'd be the opposite. Turns out  _she_ is the stupidest Lannister. Came here looking for her after she fled Winterfell and I got captured instead of her." 

Tyrion had to ignore the fact that Jaime hadn't said fiancé, but had said wife, for the time being. "You mean the same wife who probably snuck into the city without her sister knowing and very well intends to kill Cersei?" He asked sharply. "She's going to die, and Rhaella is going to be the one to do it." Tyrion paused to allow Jaime the time to process what he'd said. "Never have I seen a more poetic ending coming for our sweet sister." Tyrion moved to stand in front of Jaime. "Do you  _really_ think it's wise to go back and die with Cersei very well knowing what is coming for her?" 

"We've underestimated her before." 

"She's going to die. You know Rhaella is capable of it." She'd also informed him after her spat with Jaime before The Dragon Pit that she was going to kill Cersei. Tyrion considered it justice for all the things Cersei had done to her over the years. "Unless you can convince her to change her course of action." 

Jaime scoffed. "When have I ever been able to convince Cersei to do  _anything?_ " He asked incredulously. 

"Try." Tyrion demanded. "If not for yourself, and not for her, then for everyone of the million people in that city. Innocent or otherwise." 

The lie slipped from his tongue so much easier then he expected it to. "I can't say I cared for them." Tyrion rose an eyebrow in question. Apparently he didn't believe it either. "Innocent or otherwise." 

Willing to defy his elder brother, Tyrion Lannister knelt down just enough to be able to see Jaime's face in the firelight and threw his hand back, cracking it against his face so  _hard_ that he left a visible handprint in his wake. Jaime gasped as pain bloomed across his cheek. 

"Forgive the pain, you've dealt with worse." His baby brother glowered as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're a terrible liar, Jaime. If what you just said was true, you wouldn't have saved all these people when you were seventeen by killing your King. If that were  _true,_ you wouldn't have saved the life of his daughter who you've now taken as your  _wife._ If that were true.. you wouldn't be here." 

Jaime didn't hear half of his argument with Tyrion. His ears were still ringing by the time his brother sat in the chair across from him, and then he was listening to what sounded like an escape plan. 

"You have a very limited amount of time to reach Cersei." Tyrion said. "The two of you don't have to die. If you can reach her before Rhaella does, you can send her away. She can  _escape._ Do you remember where we met? Where they keep the dragon skulls beneath the Red Keep?" 

Of course he did. Balerion The Dread marked one of the worst experiences of his entire life. 

"Take her down there, keep following the stairways as far as they'll go. You'll come out onto a beach at the bottom where a dingy will be waiting for her. If you manage to reach her before Rhaella does.. you'll have to convince her,  _force_ her to sail out of the bay. If the winds are kind, she'll make it to Pentos and start a new life." 

"Once Cersei realizes  _I_ married  _Rhaella_ , do you really think she'll let us walk away that easy?" Jaime asked. "No, she won't. My sister and my wife will fight to have me like I'm some prized jewel to be won. A new life doesn't come that easy. Sailing past The Iron Fleet and into a new life? Saving my wife  _and_ Cersei? It sounds alot less likely then winning this war." 

"There won't  _be_ an Iron Fleet for much longer!" Tyrion exclaimed. "Do it, or you'll never see Cersei again. You'll never see Rhaella again." Jaime turned to meet his eyes. He'd spent so long fighting to be with Rhaella that learning how to live  _without_ her again was a fate worse then death. "Swear to me."

"You have my word." 

Tyrion removed the key from his jerkin to unlock Jaime's shackles. "If it works, give the order to ring all the bells in King's Landing and open the gates. That'll be our signal that the city has surrendered." 

"I'll try." Jaime replied. 

"I never thought I'd get to repay the favor." His mind flashed back to the last time he'd made a daring escape in the tunnels of The Red Keep, accompanied by a silver-haired Princess and his baby brother. Those days were so much easier then these. "Remember, ring the bells and open the gates." 

"Your Queen will execute you for this." 

Tyrion smiled. "Not if her sister meets me first." He murmured. "When and if Rhaella's influence fails... If Daenerys can make it to the throne without wading for a river of blood, maybe she'll show mercy to the person who made that possible." He stood back to his feet and bowed his head. "Tens of thousands of innocent lives, one not particularly innocent dwarf. It seems like a fair trade."

Jaime didn't answer. He wasn't sure what to say, but he know what Rhaella would tell him to do. She'd coax him into lowering the impenetrable walls he'd fabricated around his heart so he could reach out to his brother and embrace one sole moment of the love they had for each other. Just one. 

"Jaime." Tyrion whispered. "Save Rhaella. Whatever you do..  _please._ Just save her. If it weren't for the two of you, I would've never survived my childhood." 

"You would have." He replied softly. Tyrion shook his head. Jaime could wade into his memories and individually pull out ones in which he or Rhaella had come to the defense of the youngest Lannister, mainly against Cersei, but they both would've gone to war to protect him and his heart. 

"You two were the only ones who didn't treat me like a monster. You were all I had, you're  _still_ all I have, and I can't lose that. Not now." He burrowed his face in Jaime's shoulder and swallowed the sounds of his cries as his brother embraced him in return, wrapping his arm around his waist to pull him against his body.

Jaime was the first to let go, and Tyrion fled soon after. 

_Now or never, Lannister._

***

Daybreak. 

Her approach to King's Landing was coming quickly. Rhaella knew she could not cross over The Black-Water as Euron would see Rhaegal and open fire without hesitation, which really only left her one option unless she was  _really_ reckless and flew into the city anyway. 

The gates. 

Every nerve in her body was thrumming with the desire for a  _fight_ as she passed easily through the soldiers of The Golden Company, a cutthroat army from Essos who had been hired by Cersei to decimate the rest of The Unsullied that Daenerys had in her possession. Rhaella knew that Cersei wouldn't win. Not with Drogon roaming the skies. 

She pressed on through the crowds of people without so much as a sound. After spending so many years exploring the city and learning the ins and outs of the richer and poorer parts, she'd come to know the hidden pathways and turns like the intricate design of the inner Red Keep where she'd grown up. It was also remarkably easy to keep herself veiled from the eyes of the commoners. After years of living underneath Cersei, the ability to be unseen still came easily to her. 

" _Move."_

Her eyes widened at the gruff voice, and Rhaella looked up to meet the determined eyes of none other then Sandor Clegane. " _Sandor-_ " She snapped. "We're going to the same place. Lead on." 

"You think I'm going anywhere with you?" 

Rhaella had only spoken to The Hound a number of times in her life, but he'd never shown her contempt and disgust like he often did with everyone else. He wasn't cold or cruel or gruff with her. He was just.. a soldier. Just like his brother. A soldier with a fear of fire. 

" _We_ are." Her eyes were drawn to Arya Stark who was standing beside him. Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized who they were speaking to. " _Ella_?" She asked. The younger Stark daughter gripped her forearm and pushed her way through the last of the crowds of people who managed to make their way through the upper gates before they were shut by the Lannister soldiers behind her. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Winterfell!" 

"I'm trying to save my husband from certain death." Rhaella replied. "That may or may not require taking his sister out of the picture." 

Clegane snorted at the remark. "Not a surprise to me that you married Lannister." He muttered. "C'mon. We're on our way to The Keep too so this one can kill the Queen. Better keep up!" 

Rhaella pulled her hood back over her head and tightened her grip on Blackfyre as she followed Arya and The Hound through the tight, crowded streets of King's Landing. Her blood roared in her ears as she gazed upon them - the people Dany intended to protect - who seemed far too fearful of their new Queen. 

Why? What was she missing? What was-

" _No._ " She whispered in disbelief. The city should've surrendered. They might have been under the reign of a tyrant who destroyed The Sept of Baelor, but Cersei wasn't cold enough to let all these people _die,_ was she? Surely Tyrion would've done something. He would've said something, would've curbed Daenerys' worst impulses to prevent a slaughter-

_Who does this all remind you of?_

"Burn them. Burn them all." Arya met her petrified gaze through the corner of her hood. "My-My father. She's fulfilling the wishes of my  _dead_ father. Daenerys is going to reduce her Kingdom to a graveyard." The pounding of horse hooves echoed in the air, and the overwhelming smell of smoke burned her eyes as she heard the cries of the Dothraki screamers who were riding through the city. "Seven Hells-What is she  _doing?!_ " 

_Ring the bells, ring the bells, ring the bells._

"RING THE BELLS!" 

" _Ring the bells!"_

The inhabitants of King's Landing were screaming for unconditional surrender. 

High above the city, Daenerys Targaryen sat overlooking her Kingdom. Her own words to Jon rang in her head as the people below her screamed for her surrender, for the bells to be rung and lives to be spared. The world held its breath as they waited, and waited, and waited. 

The bells rung.

She thought of Jorah, of Khal Drogo and Rhaego. She thought of Viserion and Viserys and Rhaegar and her mother and father. She thought of all the people who had died under the rule of Cersei Lannister, and the sister who had been forced into subjugation by the very woman who still held her Throne. 

There was no time for the luxury of grief. Now.. now there was nothing but rage. 

_Alright then. Let it be fear._

Drogon took off through the smoke. 

***

Have you ever known such a world? A world of terror, built by the rage of a Queen who was fed by her own losses? The ancient histories of Westeros speak of a Mad Queen, of her dragons that died to save the world that did not think it needed to thank her for her sacrifice. 

The histories also speak of The Dragon Princess. A noble warrior who had endured the effects of  _three_ wars and had been directly involved in one of them. A Lady of Westeros, born of The Mad King and his wife Rhaella, who knew nothing but her duty. Many people think that The Dragon Princess took after her mother in knowing that she needed to fulfill her duty to the realm. 

The Battle for King's Landing speaks of fire. Of fire and blood, the ancient words of House Targaryen. The corpses that littered the ground and the shattering sound of screams that still echoed in the air years after the battle had been fought. 

They say that The Dragon Princess saved a country that day. 

*** 

Rhaella had never run so fast in her entire life. She had never anticipated that Daenerys would go against the wishes of her Hand and act on the dying words of their father. She had never thought in a  _million_ years that she'd see the spirit of Aerys Targaryen reincarnated into his daughter. 

The Mad Queen. 

The heat of the dragon fire seared the back of her neck as she tore through the streets, her cloak long discarded as it had been torn off by the dying who pursued her through the streets. Her thoughts no longer lingered on the lives being taken all around her, but now on Jaime, who she was in an seemingly never ending race with to arrive at The Red Keep first. 

"Stay alive." She whispered to herself as she struggled to keep up with Arya and Sandor. "For me, for once... Just  _stay_ alive, Jaime." 

***

Cersei allowed Qyburn to lead her away from the devastation and through the halls of The Red Keep with the intention of taking refuge in Maegor's Holdfast. She seemed to believe that The Red Keep was the safest place in the city despite the protests from her Hand, and as she watched The Mountain part from her side with the very clear intention to kill his brother, only one more place emanated safety for her. 

The Throne Room. 

She fled past Sandor Clegane and down the steps in search of the remains of The Throne Room. Jaime would come save her. He'd leave his lovesick Dragon Princess in Winterfell away from the carnage and chaos so she could keep her innocence he seemed to love to exploit, and he'd return to her and they'd flee to a new life and finally be happy. 

_But this Jaime is not your Jaime. He is a fleeting shadow of your brother, of your former other half, the other piece of your soul. Gone is the lover._

That was Rhaella Targaryen's doing. 

She crept through the front doors and navigated her way to The Iron Throne, crossing her legs at the ankles and curling her fingers over the swords of Aegon's fallen enemies. 

Now all she had to do was wait for her savior. 

***

"Go home girl. The fire will get her, or one of the Dothraki. Or maybe that dragon will eat her.'' Sandor paused as he realized that the presence of The Dragon Princess had somehow disappeared since they'd arrived at The Red Keep. "Or maybe our beloved Princess will finally wake the dragon. Either way, it doesn't matter, she's dead." 

Arya's eyes widened as she looked around for any sign of Rhaella, only to find there was none. She had traveled all this way with The Hound to kill Cersei herself for everything she'd put the Stark family through, there was no way she was going to abandon it now-

"I'm going to kill her, with or without Rhaella." 

Sandor gripped her forearm in his hand. She was so  _tiny_ compared to him. "You think you've waited for revenge for a long time? I've been after it  _all_ my life. It's all I care about. The Princess? She's waited years to marry Lannister. Why she chose him, I'll never know, but Cersei kept her from doing that and now she's getting what she deserves." 

Steel kissed steel as Rhaella fought through the Gold Cloaks and the Queensguard who were still lingering in the castle. She hadn't cared enough to wear her armor from Daenerys or Rhaegar, settling on using her vulnerability to her advantage to draw Cersei in. There was nothing more that a homicidal maniac loved then soft, weak people. 

Blood dripped down her arms. In a rather difficult fight with one of the more formidable Queensguard who had not yet been killed by the dragon fire or the crumbling remains of The Red Keep, he'd nearly gained the upper hand on her and left sizable wounds in the place of Viserion's gashes inflicted during The Long Night. 

Despite her pain, she pressed on. Despite the bricks that fell and the debris that came in contact with her head, she pressed on. Blood tricked down her temple and stained her lips. Rhaella paid it no mind. 

Arya stared up at Sandor with sad eyes. Clegane often forgot how young she was. 

"Sandor." She called out. The Hound turned around to regard her one last time. "Thank you." 

Cersei froze in her place as the screaming outside the doors to the throne room was suddenly silenced, and the familiar melody of a haunting tune began to echo against the remains of her castle. 

_And who are you, the proud lord said_

_that I must bow so low?_

The throne room doors slowly swung open. Cersei watched a hunched over figure move into the room, dressed in a dark tunic and breeches with a sword hanging low on their hip. The Rains of Castamere flowed clearly from their- _her_ mouth as a trail of blood, not heavy enough to stop her, followed in her wake. 

A circlet tinged with blood sat heavy upon her head. 

_Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth I know_

_A coat of gold, a coat of red, a lion still has claws_

"I must say," Her blood ran cold at the sound of Rhaella Targaryen's voice. "Of all the places for you to be, I can't say I was expecting to  _finally_ be rid of you in the same place that Jaime rid the world of my father." The Dragon Princess lifted her chin to meet the hardened eyes of The Mother of Madness. "Tell me, Cersei. Are you ready to meet your end as so many rulers have met it before you?" 

"Death will come for me, Rhaella." Cersei said coldly. "But not today." She watched as Rhaella removed Keeper from the sheath on her thigh, her family sword carelessly left by the doors as she moved closer to The Iron Throne. 

"I know death." That rang true. Death had taken nearly everyone she loved from her. "He has many faces. He wore my mother and my father, my brothers, The Dragons Protector and the face of my nephew. He wore the faces of those he took from me. Death has worn the faces of your children, your parents, your husband... but today?" Her lips curled upward in a vicious smile as she tightly gripped the dagger, the very one her brother had given to her, in blood stained hands. 

"Today, Cersei Lannister, Death wears the face of The Dragon Princess as  _she_ will be the one taking from  _you._  Your rule of defiance and cruelty and greed will no longer be tolerated. And today, today your reign.. your reign is  _over."_

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**_2 comments for more kids because the next chapter and the 3 following are all you have left besides the epilogue_ **

 

 


	38. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a battle for Jaime's heart versus Jaime's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, this is the penultimate decision and wow this chapter was hard, i hope you guys love this

[AUTHORS NOTE: After S8 ended, Lena Headey mentioned something at a convention about  _why_ Cersei isn't pregnant in The Bells. She miscarried, they filmed it, but it was far too dark for them to put into the show and so it was cut. There's allusions to that here, just a forewarning. And as for Valyrian steel, for sake of this story it is possible for those blades to be broken.]

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"I find it rather amusing that you think you're making it out of this alive." Rhaella called out. "I was serious when I told Jaime I was going to kill you. I don't intend on letting you walk out of this room alive, Your Majesty." 

Under any other circumstances, Cersei Lannister would have never been intimidated by the likes of a woman who had once been her servant. Now though - This was different. She was alone in the remains of a castle she thought impenetrable until today, and the one woman who hated her more then just about anyone else in Westeros had arrived before her brother. 

But Jaime wouldn't leave her alone like this. He wouldn't just... he wouldn't let her be  _slaughtered_ like this!

"You won't name yourself Queenslayer." Cersei said cooly. There were a lot of things that Rhaella would do, but stooping to the level of a murderer? That was too far beneath a Dragon Princess. "You might be a Targaryen, but fire and blood is beneath you. That is not the way you act on your desires." 

"Maybe not to anyone else in the world, but  _you?_ I've considered being merciful to you." Rhaella tilted her head. "Because that is who I am. The legends about me speak of an honorable woman with a heart for the innocent and a compassionate that could cover entire cities. People call me  _valiant._ And then I realize.. do they know me? Do they know my regret, my sadness and my  _anger_ and my capacity to love? Do they know  _me?_ I don't think they do." Rhaella fell silent as she looked out over the sea that could be seen from the ruined foundations of the wall to her right. "This could've all been avoided had you just kept your  _word,_ Cersei. Had you sent the Southern armies to Winterfell and fought The Long Night with us, Daenerys would not be wreaking havoc on your city as we speak. If you didn't allow your arrogance and your lust for power to run every decision you make,  _you_ wouldn't be watching your Kingdom fall to ruin as we speak! Do you hear it?" 

Cersei listened. There was no sound but silence. 

"That's your Kingdom, Cersei. It's dead. That's on  _you._ " Rhaella snarled. A shiver ran down her spine as Rhaella turned back to Cersei. "I fled my wedding bed in the middle of the night to reach you before Jaime did." That caught her attention. "Yes, you heard me. My  _wedding_ bed. Your brother, the very being of your desires, asked the woman who you forced to abandon her heart for him to marry him. We marry  _yesterday._ "

Cersei shook her head. "No," She denied, and denied, and denied. "Jaime wouldn't, Jaime would never marry someone who couldn't bear his heirs." 

"Jaime doesn't want to be a Lord or a Knight anymore, Cersei. He wants to be _Jaime._ His past haunts him every waking moment because you never let up about it!" Rhaella exclaimed. "You made him relive his failures to  _you_ when he returned to King's Landing and you had that god-forsaken golden hand made because you were too disgusted by his disfigurement! You turned the bleeding heart of a broken and _honorable_ man into someone you could desire because your fantasies weren't being satisfied by Robert. You turned him into someone he didn't recognize. You know who made him see that?" She leaned forward and smiled. "It wasn't me, oh no. It was Catelyn Stark and Brienne of Tarth."

Cersei stood to her feet and paid no mind to the remark about Jaime's humanity and the long dead Catelyn Stark.  _Good_. She had her on the move now. "How would you know desire?" Cersei drawled, green eyes glittering in the darkness. "How would you know love, and wanting, and  _satisfaction?_ Tell me.. did my brother cry your name when he spent himself inside of you? Did you get him off before you even began? Or was he so spent by the  _work_ it took to bed you that you wondered if he was even worth the effort?"

"Jaime,  _my_ Jaime, will always be worth the effort." She snarled darkly. "Because unlike you, I actually care about him and his heart. I value him. I have  _always_ valued him for who he was, not who the White Cloak turned him into. Your father never gave you Lannisters the opportunity to learn how to feel things after Joanna died," Cersei stiffened at the mention of her mother. "But I have  _never_ met someone who feels things to the degree Jaime does. He is.. so tragically  _human_ and it is beautiful. You never liked beautiful things." There was a look in her eye - one that rang empty - and made Cersei's hands tremble. Maybe she was wrong, maybe Rhaella Targaryen did have the gall to perform regicide. She was not fearful, she was _not_ \- "You always like dark, evil things. Like hatred." Her tone was flat, which was also new. It seemed Rhaella really did not feel  _anything_  in that moment.

 Cersei didn't realize until she looked back up at her that the Princess had tears falling through the blood on her cheeks.  _Tears._ Who did they fall for? 

"Your hatred is remarkable. You hated your father because he treated you as inferior, which is normal given we're both powerful woman." Rhaella paused. "You hated your mother for leaving you, you hated Tyrion for taking your mother from you. By the way,  _Tyrion_ did not take your mother from you. Death did. Death took Tywin." A step. "Joanna, Kevan." Another step. "Joffrey,  _Myrcella."_ Cersei's lips curled in a snarl as Rhaella's eyes gleamed proudly. "Tommen. Death keeps taking from you, Cersei. You keep thinking that none of this is your fault, that none of what has come to meet you is your fault. You blame everything on everyone else except  _yourself._ How do you live with yourself? How do you tell yourself you're decent, after all of  _this?_ "  

"And who is to blame for the weakness that has fallen on my brother?" Cersei asked. "It was not me, I can assure you. It was  _love._ Whether or not it was his love for you or me or Tyrion, I cannot say, but love made Jaime weak and it turned him into a fool! You  _married_ that fool!" 

"Yes, Cersei. I married the fool." Rhaella replied. "A fool who has given me his most sacred vow: to remain at my side, in sickness and in health. Can you say anyone ever made the same vow to you?" 

Cersei was silent. Robert definitely had not made that vow. She thought Jaime would've, if they'd been different people and lived in a different world, but that dream was dead now. As was she. 

"I hoped your brother would, once upon a time." 

"Ah, Rhaegar." Rhaella tutted. "How far back into the past do you wish to delve into? The betrothal with Rhaegar not working wasn't on  _you._ Rhaegar wouldn't have loved you the way you loved him." Cersei watched her deflate at the thought of her brother, her thoughts betraying her utter disappointment in him. "I loved him as you still love Jaime, I  _believe,_ but he was a fool too. His.."  _Marriage._ "Relationship with Lyanna Stark is why he's dead. Robert never let you live that down, did he? You felt like you were breathing life back into a ghost." 

"Robert loved her more then me." Cersei said. "She was a corpse. What harm could Lyanna Stark's ghost do to either of us?''

"More then you ever thought." 

They were both silent as Drogon roared somewhere in the distance. Rhaella crossed the remains of the throne room to grab Blackfyre and wedge it into the handles of the door. 

"You know, I hope she burns you." Cersei's voice echoed. "Or I hope you burn her. Either way.. I hope you both die. Nothing would bring me greater joy."  

Her hands wrapped around the hilt of her family sword. She wedged it deeper, drove it deeper until it was fully wedged between the door handles. No one was getting in without either breaking the door or the sword. 

***

Jaime raced through the Red Keep at a speed he didn't think himself capable of once he'd obtained the fatal stab wounds, courtesy of Euron Greyjoy. The former King of the Iron Islands had claimed he'd seen a  _second_ dragon looming over the Iron Fleet long before Daenerys had begun to attack the city, but he wasn't interested in a dragon without a rider. 

_He was as green as the waters of The Trident._

Rhaegal had been in the area, which meant Rhaella was near. If Rhaella was near, Cersei was running out of time. 

He couldn't remember a time where his hands hadn't been stained by blood. Even now, desperate to keep it in its rightful place within his body, Jaime stumbled through the ruined remains of his childhood home in search of his sister. He'd seen Qyburn's body on the steps, and The Mountain at the bottom of the Keep along with the charred remains of who he assumed to Sandor Clegane, which meant there was only one place place they'd be. 

The Iron Throne. 

He stumbled past the fallen bodies of Queensguard and Gold Cloaks and came upon the shambles of the doors to the throne room, and then Jaime Lannister started screaming. 

***

Rhaella was running out of things to say. Cersei was tired. Tired and angry and ready for it all to be  _over._ In the end, she was all alone and no one was coming to save her. 

"Has your soul been satisfied, Rhaella?" Cersei asked wearily. "Has-" Both pairs of eyes snapped over to the doors of the throne room that began to rattle, which meant that somebody was standing outside of that door with the intention of getting in. "Jaime." 

Rhaella whipped around and removed Keeper from its scabbard. She could just barely hear the screams of her name from Jaime's lips outside the door. His voice was raw,  _desperate_ , begging her to open the door and grant his sister the mercy he'd seen her give to so many before her. 

The Princess turned back around. Cersei had sat herself down on the steps in front of The Iron Throne. "Why do you keep fighting, Cersei?" She asked. "After all you've lost, all the things you've cast aside, why do you-" Both pairs of eyes fell onto the flat of her stomach. The same womb in which Jaime believed to carry his baby, a womb that was empty. "The babe-" 

Cersei swallowed back the tears in her eyes. "I lost it." She whispered. "Over a fortnight ago, maybe longer." Rhaella noticed it was a topic she did not wish to broach. She had experienced miscarriages several times over the course of her life, but she had  _never_ endured such pain alone. Cersei Lannister had gone into a rare, deep sleep with dreams of a babe and a future where she could raise it and protect it better then she had her other three.. and had woken up in so much blood that it had coated her thighs and legs and  _Gods.._ there was no way her baby had survived that ordeal. 

Her heart ached as the servants changed the sheets and Qyburn confirmed what she had already knew. Her last reason to live had flickered out and died. 

They listened to the sound of her brothers screams outside the door. The sword within the handles rattled at the force, but she could hear the strength ebbing away in his voice. 

"If you have any last words," Rhaella swallowed the knot in her throat and tightened her grip on her dagger. "Now is the time." 

Cersei leaned back and smiled to herself. She seemed.. well, at peace with what was about to happen. "Sing to me, Princess." She cooed. "Sing The Mother of Madness to sleep." 

Rhaella's eyes widened.  _That_ was not what she'd been expecting Cersei to say. That didn't excuse the fact that she wasn't fighting back, she wasn't arguing or demanding alternatives: She was sitting there in front of her in front of The Iron Throne in what looked to be surrender. "Okay," She replied uncertainly. "Okay. What do you want me to sing?" 

Cersei cracked one eye open. "Oh, don't be bashful now." She mused. "You know what I want." Rhaella moved closer, and closer, hand brandishing her dagger as they were just close enough for her to make it easy. One shove of that dagger, and Cersei Lannister was dead. 

Jaime was still screaming outside the throne room. 

_High in the Halls of the Kings who are gone_

_Jenny did dance with her ghosts_

Cersei waited. There would be a window of opportunity, one where she let her guard down. 

_The ones she had lost_

_And the ones she had found_

The tip of the dagger touched her gown. She could feel the trembling hands that wielded it. 

_And the ones who had loved her the most_

Her eyes snapped open and her hands shot outward.

Jaime froze as he heard Rhaella scream. There was obvious sounds of fighting in the Throne Room, and he used the last of his strength to kick the door open as hard as he possibly could. Blackfyre shattered at the impact, and Jaime Lannister was transported back to when he was ten-and-seven and standing in this very room when he killed Aerys Targaryen. 

Everything moved in slow motion from the moment he opened the door. He saw the tip of her blade pierce his sister's heart to the hilt, and he saw the blood that spilled down the steps that lead to the Iron Throne. The way Rhaella's eyes widened with fear upon realizing that he had seen it. He had seen exactly what she hadn't wanted him to see. 

He heard Cersei's words, " _I guess you win._ " as Rhaella gasped sharply and pried her fingers away from her throat. Bruises were already beginning to bloom on pale skin. 

Everything moved in slow motion from the moment he opened the door. He saw the tip of her blade pierce his sister's heart to the hilt, and he saw the blood that spilled down the steps that lead to the Iron Throne. The way Rhaella's eyes widened with fear upon realizing that he had seen it. He had seen exactly what she hadn't wanted him to see. 

Daenerys and her forces were close to arriving, and time was running out for the both of them.

Widow's Wail dragged across the ground as he neared the Iron Throne, far too intimidated to step into the stain of his sisters blood and far too fearful to gaze upon her corpse. Rhaella had yet to speak, and so as he feel to his knees, Jaime uttered the very word that would mark the beginning of her identity; both with the people of Westeros and herself. 

Except this time, she would be revered for her actions. 

_"Queenslayer."_

 


	39. What She Craved (Very Nearly Destroyed Her)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens now?

All hail her Satanic Majesty.

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"What did you do?" 

Rhaella screwed her eyes tightly shut. She didn't want to see his grief, his guilt, his disappointment in her. So she kept her eyes on Cersei. Cersei Lannister - the person she hated most in this world - staring at the skies with vacant eyes and blood blooming across her chest from the stab wound she'd obtained. 

She did her best to ignore the pain blooming in her neck. The last thing she had been expecting was for Cersei to retaliate and attempt to asphyxiate her, fingers wound so tightly around her throat that she'd begun to see stars. 

Rhaella understood her final words. Ned Stark had told her about this, so long ago, before The Lannisters had taken him from Winterfell and slaughtered him in front of the world. 

"She said something oddly peculiar to me. 'When you play The Game of Thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.' What do you suppose it means?" 

Cersei had looked oddly proud. Maybe she would've preferred Rhaella to sit on the Iron Throne as compared to Daenerys. She would've been a much more merciful Queen.

"Rhaella," Jaime's voice drew her attention. She could hear the strength ebbing away each time he spoke. "What did you do?" 

"I don't know, Lord Stark." She had replied. "But I imagine we will find out soon enough."

Jaime pressed his hand tightly against his side as his strength wavered with the more blood he lost. His wife still stood in front of The Iron Throne, hands wound around the body of his sister as she waited. What for, he didn't know. "I came here with the intention to save you." Rhaella said softly. "I think I just did." 

"You-You killed-" 

“Your sister dug her claws into you the moment you came into the world holding her heel.” Jaime remained unmoving as Rhaella cradled Cersei against her chest and laid her at the foot of the Iron Throne, Keeper still plunged hilt deep into her heart. “I thought it was time you put your skeletons away, Jaime. That you found the peace you craved, that you start living this life of husband and wife with me." She turned away from the body and sank to her knees with him. Jaime's eyes glistened with tears as she took his face in her hands and pressed the barest of kisses against his forehead. "You can finally learn how to rest." 

Jaime laughed, despite the pain that seared his side at the action. "I don't know rest." He replied. 

"I know you don't. As long as Cersei was alive, you never would." She met his gaze. "There's nothing I want more for you, Jaime Lannister, then to spend the rest of your life learning to rest and know peace. You want to know how to do that?  Be with me." A kiss to each eyelid. "Please, please.. Jaime." Jaime shuddered as if there was a chill in the air, and he fell into the curve of her body with a wheeze. Rhaella tangled her fingers in his hair and slowly exhaled through her nose to control the rush of emotion that knotted her throat. "Husband." 

Wet, bubbling laughter broke past his lips as he nuzzled the crook of her neck. Rhaella could practically smell the blood in the air as snow continued falling around them. "Wife." He breathed. Their union felt like a distant memory, one he cradled close to his heart. One far too precious to be tainted. "Wife." Both pairs of eyes fell down to where his hands were still pressed to his sides. Not an inch of skin remained unmarked by blood. "I'm hurt." 

That was when Rhaella realized the degree of his injuries. "Gods, Jaime-" She hurriedly removed her leather and tore at the fabric of her breeches and shirt until the breeches were just below the knees, and hastily made bandages to staunch the flow of blood. "How did you-" 

"Euron. He's dead." 

Both heads snapped up at the sound of footsteps. Rhaella didn't have to look to know it was definitely Daenerys looking to find the Throne she'd waited so long to gaze upon with her own eyes. 

"Hells, she's coming." Rhaella whispered urgently. Jaime went slack in her arms as she brought him up onto the dais where the Iron Throne sat and laid his body vertically behind the chair and just out of her sister's sight. "Stay alive, Jaime." 

The last thing he remembered was tasting Rhaella on his lips. 

"Stay alive." 

She tasted of blood and ash. 

***

When Daenerys entered the Throne Room after her Unsullied took Tyrion into custody, the last thing she was expecting to see was the shattered remains of her family sword followed by the path of blood that lead right to The Iron Throne. 

Sitting in her chair was her sister, and at her feet Cersei Lannister. Cersei was dead. Her eyes were closed and blood dried across her torso from a stab wound, and her neck was tainted purple with the bruises on her skin. 

"Rhaella?" 

Rhaella smiled. "My, it's well past time you joined me, Daenerys." She called out. Daenerys frowned as she stared up at her sister. "This is a conversation we should have had after Viserion died." 

Daenerys didn't seem interested in whatever Rhaella was intending to say, and so she continued her pursuit towards the throne. "Why are you here?" She said coldly. "I left you in Winterfell believing you'd oversee the repairs and ensure our relationship with the Starks stands. That was where I left you. So why are you here in my city?" 

Her blood boiled at the defiance behind her sister's tone. Even after all she had witnessed in her venture to get into the Red Keep before Jaime did, all the death and destruction and rage that rained from the heavens and onto the innocents of King's Landing, Daenerys still had the gall to assume she'd just be taking the Iron Throne. 

"Have you been down there? Have you seen?" Both sisters remained oblivious to the presence of Jon Snow, who had followed Daenerys into the ruined remains of the Red Keep. "I was going to just take the easy way out and fly Rhaegal to one of the exits that Tyrion told me about, but that would've been too easy and you would've noticed. I took to the cover of darkness and blended in with the commoners. Being hidden is kind of what I do. I'm good at remaining unseen. I ran and ran and ran to avoid the dragon fire but there was blood everywhere- Wives holding their husbands, little children-" She swallowed the bile in her throat. "Little children burned! I ran harder then I ever had in my life to get here before my husband would so his ghosts could finally be put to rest-" 

"Husband?"

"Oh, I may have forgotten to mention that." Rhaella replied casually. "You are currently speaking to Rhaella Targaryen-Lannister. I marry Jaime less then a sennight ago underneath The Godswood in Winterfell with no one but Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne as my witnesses." Blue eyes swept behind her to the front doors of the Throne Room, or what remained of them. "Ah, Jon! Do come in. I am in need of your assistance." 

"What-" Jon began, but was cut off by the sharp snap of Rhaella's fingers as she drew his confusion back to her. "What can I do for you, My Lady?" 

"My husband is gravely injured and needs to be seen by your Maester." She said. Jon's eyes widened as Jaime Lannister appeared from behind the Iron Throne, hands pressed against his side and eyes fluttering as he battled unconsciousness as she held him in her arms. "Time is of the essence, Snow. I need him alive." 

It sounded more like the request of a desperate wife then of the sister to an angry Queen, and so Jon called out to the Unsullied outside the doors and together they took Jaime out of the room to be seen by Samwell Tarly. Rhaella watched them go. 

"You went and conspired with my enemies behind my back, abandoned your post and travelled down here to rescue The Kingslayer?" Daenerys asked. Rhaella's eyes slowly settled on her sister. The anger was palpable, but she no longer cared. Daenerys had no say in who she could and could not love. "You killed the woman who held my throne and married the man who killed our father-" 

"Your father wanted the very thing that lays outside these walls. He wanted death and he wanted to burn them all." Cold blue eyes regarded The Dragon Queen angrily. "It seems the spirit of Aerys Targaryen lives on in you, sweet sister." 

Daenerys turned her attention back to the Iron Throne, and Rhaella saw something flicker deep within her eyes as she gazed upon the blades. An innocence she had not seen since they'd talked that very first night in Dragonstone. "When I was little, Viserys used to tell me it was made of a thousand swords from Aegon's fallen enemies." She said. Rhaella furrowed her brow at the sudden sentimentality but made no move to speak. "What do a thousand swords look like to a little girl who couldn't count to twenty? I imagined a mountain of swords too high to climb, so many fallen enemies you could only see the soles of Aegon's feet." 

"I've seen many a king sit on that throne." Rhaella slowly stood to her feet despite the numbed ache in her temples and the weariness settling into her bones. She missed the contortion in Daenerys' expression. "And all of them are dead. All of them except you. Do we intend to follow the pattern?" 

Daenerys bristled at the veiled threat. "Threatening your Queen is an act of treason, Rhaella." She snapped. 

"What, do you think you can kill me?" Rhaella questioned. "You won't. I know you won't. You have nobody left, Daenerys! Everyone you love is dead!" A chill swept through the Throne Room that curled Rhaella's toes inside of her boots, and she fought the urge to shiver as Daenerys whipped around to face her. "Everyone I love is dead with the exception of Jaime, Tyrion, Brienne and you! Do you not realize what I'm trying to do here? What I'm acting on? I'm acting on my love for you!" 

Fire flickered in the eyes of the youngest Targaryen. Desperation flickered in the elder, but the dragon slept on. They wondered if it would ever wake. 

"It looks like you're trying to claim a throne that you don't want." 

"I don't want your throne, Daenerys." Rhaella pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. "I don't want to rule a kingdom of ash. That's what you'd be ruling if I intended to let you rule Westeros. However, after what you just did, I have no intention to let you rule an entire country when you destroyed the capital city." 

"Who is going to stop me?" Daenerys asked. 

"Well, me. I will. I'm the only one you can't kill with dragon fire. Fire cannot kill a dragon." She said it so confidently without a drop of fear in her eyes that Daenerys was inclined to believe her. Given that Rhaella had survived what had happened here today, it seemed likely that they were both immune to it.

"And your husband? He is your weakness. A weakness I can exploit." 

“You're right. Jaime is my husband.” A husband who she had let leave her side to attend to his sister, who even after all she’d done he was still trying to save. “And as for exploitation, good luck. I’ll never let you touch him.” That’s even if he’s still alive. 

  “And what’s to stop me from throwing you into the Black Cells on treason charges? From having my Unsullied torture your husband while you sit there, helpless to defend him?” Rhaella nearly snorted as she slowly moved Cersei's body further and further away from the Iron Throne. Somewhere deep within the very core of herself, she wanted to believe Daenerys was just fabricating excuses to punish for her for essentially doing the right thing. Barely a word had been spoken about the death of The Mother of Madness, but she kept turning the conversation away from her own choices and her blatantly obvious decision to succumb to the madness clouding her mind, to feel her losses through wreaking absolute havoc on the people she'd come to Westeros to protect. 

Daenerys stopped in her tracks as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of Keeper. She could see the gears turning in her younger sisters head, the fear lingering in the depths of blue eyes as she removed the dagger from its scabbard. “You married a traitor, broke your Oath-“ 

She smiled. An Oathbreaker marrying another Oathbreaker. How poetic. 

Rhaella crossed the room and laid her blade at the foot of the Iron Throne where her father’s body once laid. Daenerys stood before her, chest swelled and eyes blazing with a fury she thought long dead along with their father. 

Aerys wasn't a father. He was a madman, a tyrant, a murderer and a coward. How was she supposed to convince her of these things? 

Her eyes fluttered closed and her memories took her to a steam room in Harrenhal. 

  “Have you heard of wildfire?” The speech Jaime once gave Brienne echoed in her mind as she gazed around the throne room. There were so many memories in this place; People who were long dead and rotting in their graves spread out across Westeros. 

Maybe she really was Jenny.

  “Of course.” Daenerys replied. 

What will it take to get through to her? To make her see reason?

  “Father was obsessed with it.” 

A long buried memory of a man, half a corpse and half a god, confessing his darkest sin in the bathtubs of a ruined castle. 

It'll take the story of a Knight from Tarth, a dishonorable man, and a woman who didn't know who she was to save Daenerys from herself. Rhaella just hopes its worth it. 

***

Daenerys hadn't moved from her seat atop of Drogon in well over an hour. After calling the dragon into the ruined remains of the throne room, she had listened to her sister's story about her involvement in the death of their father and why he'd been killed. Jaime Lannister had not dishonored himself, he'd saved himself and thousands of lives by taking one. Viserys had always made The K-Jaime out to be the villain in that story, no matter how many times he told it. 

"I'm giving you a choice, Dany. You either give up this throne right now, or you go back to Meereen and heal. Go back and return when you believe you can rule Westeros with the heart that Jorah believed you to have. That Barristan Selmy believed you to have. You have a gentle heart. So do I. Mend it, and return when you're ready." 

Rhaella commanded the Unsullied almost as well as she did. They listened to her just as easily, and left on her heels as she left Daenerys and her dragon in the Throne Room. 

The Dragon Queen swallowed the knot in her throat. 

A choice to be made. 

***

Jaime woke to the smell of smoke and a chill in the air. His eyes slowly opened to the reds and black fabric of a Targaryen tent and swept back and forth until they landed on the figure in the corner. It didn't take much for him to recognize Samwell Tarly. 

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. His hand crept downward and brushed against gauze, tightly wound around his torso to keep him from aggravating his injuries. 

"Oh, you're awake!" Sam exclaimed. The broad-shouldered, pudgy man smiled as he crossed the tent with milk of the poppy and a basin of water. "You've been in and out of consciousness for a week, Ser. Try not to move. Your injuries are just beginning to heal, and they're doing rather well." 

He could hear a female voice outside the tent. It didn't matter that it was Brienne, it was female and he wanted to believe that it was Rhaella. He wanted his wife, he wanted Rhaella-

"R-Rha-" 

"Oh, your wife! She's been in and out since Jon brought you here to see if you're awake. I'll be sure to send someone after her to inform her." Sam informed him as he checked the bandages, satisfied with their condition, and left Jaime alone to attend to the matter of his currently indisposed wife. 

Jaime fell asleep and dreamt freely, without terrors, for the first time since childhood. 

***

Daenerys had been kept in one of the undamaged solars since Rhaella had given her a choice: Leave and return when you're healed, or give up the throne. Dany had only just told her of the choice she had made, but she could see the Lords and Ladies of Westeros convening in the Dragon Pit to talk about all that had aspired in the last month from the window of the Tower of the Hand. 

Arya, Sansa and Brain watched as Greyworm and two other Unsullied escorted Tyrion into the Dragonpit. The youngest Lannister was looking rather haggard, with an unkempt beard and equally frazzled curls that hid most of his face. What was extremely unsettling was the handcuffs that bound his wrists together. 

They heard her before they saw her. 

"Turgon Nudha, dāez āeksio Tȳhrion." The sharp Valyrian tongue echoed in the Dragon Pit as Rhaella Targaryen entered its archway, dressed in a red tunic with black breeches and boots that laced up to her knees. Her cloak was fastened at her shoulders with the Targaryen pin she'd taken from Jorah's body before he'd been burned in Winterfell. 

Daenerys had been specific about this. All command of any Unsullied that still remained in the city was to go to Rhaella for the time being until further decisions were made in regards to her future there. Rhaella Targaryen had not been the one to free him and his brothers from slavery, but Grey Worm respected her and so obeyed her commands. 

Tyrion sighed as the shackles fell against the ground. 

Sansa was the first to speak. "Where is Jon?" She asked. Rhaella had yet to approach the group of high-borns as she was pondering the best way to approach what had aspired in the time following her exit from the throne room. Jon Snow had tasked four Unsullied with transporting Jaime into the city to where Samwell was waiting for him at the refugee camp for the wounded, and had deliberately waited until Rhaella went after them to approach Daenerys himself about what he had seen. 

That excursion had very nearly ended with a dagger in Dany's heart, and it would've had Rhaella not had a nagging urge to remain behind in the Keep. Jon had been apprehended, and Daenerys had wept in her arms. 

We thought we knew which way her coin had landed. It may still spin yet, uncertain of which way to fall. 

"He is our prisoner." Grey Worm replied. 

"So is Lord Tyrion! They were both to be brought to this gathering. Jon didn't kill Daenerys, neither did Tyrion. They might have done other heinous acts against their Queen, but that doesn't exclude their influence in this matter." 

"We will decide what we do with our prisoners." 

Rhaella threw her braid over her shoulder and approached the group. "No, I will decide what you do with the prisoners." She snapped. "Daenerys is not dead, Grey Worm. She awaits what I believe is justice met by mercy." Her eyes slid over to the Stark children who seemed to be waiting for her answer. "Sansa, no harm is going to come to Jon as long as he remains under my care. I know what the North gave to win the city and The Long Night. He is safe." 

Arya seemed pleased by this answer and leaned back in her chair. 

"Some of you may be quick to forgive, but the Iron Born are not." Yara Greyjoy called out from her chair beside the newly appointed Prince of Dorne. "I don't know what you call justice met by mercy, but I did not swear to follow you, Princess. I swore to follow your sister." 

"The Queen you swore to follow was a tyrant who was brought down by her sister." Sansa snapped. "Had it not been for Rhaella Targaryen, we'd be having an entirely different conversation with two dead Queens as the subject." 

"She freed us from a tyrant! Cersei is gone because of her-" 

"No, Cersei is gone because of her." Arya interjected, jabbing a thumb at Rhaella who now stood silently beside Tyrion. "And if you say another word about killing my brother, I'll cut your throat." 

"Friends, please." Ser Davos Seaworth stood to his feet from where he sat beside Brienne. "We've been cutting each others throats long enough." He turned his eyes to Grey Worm. "If it were not for you and your men, we would've lost the war with the dead. This country owes you a debt it can never repay, but you should let us try." He looked to his right and left at the other high-borns. "There is land in The Reach. Good land. The people who used to live there are gone. Make it your own, start your own House with the Unsullied as your bannerman. We've had enough war. Thousands of you and thousands of them, you know how it ends. We need to find a better way." 

"We do not need payment." Grey Worm replied. "We need justice." 

"Your justice is not going to be delivered to you, so stop talking about it!" Rhaella exclaimed. "Daenerys is not dead, Grey Worm. Cersei is dead. The hellion who sat on that throne is buried and we no longer have to deal with her. Jon Snow very nearly committed regicide for what he believed to be just reasons, and I will hear them from him later. Now is not the time to talk about justice. We need to talk about what happens next." 

Tyrion quietly spoke up, "It's not for you to decide-" 

"You are not here to speak!" 

Rhaella's lips curled upward in a silent snarl. "Urnēbagon aōha ēngos." She snapped. "Iā aōha dāria kessa rȳbagon hen ziry." (Mind your tongue, or your Queen will hear of it.) 

"You're right, I have said enough and no one is any better for it." Tyrion said. "Jon committed his crime here. While Daenerys lives, whatever punishment is to fall upon him will be decided by our King or our Queen." 

Lord Royce, who sat faithfully beside Robyn Arryn who was now nearly a man grown, spoke out. "We don't have a King or Queen." 

"You're the most powerful people in Westeros!" Tyrion exclaimed. "Choose one." 

All three of the Stark children and Brienne of Tarth were more then certain of who they'd choose, should the opportunity to confess it arrive. 

Edmure Tully stood to his feet. "My Lords and Ladies," He began. "I suppose this is the most important moment of our lives. What we decide today will reverberate through the annuls of history. I stand before you as one of the senior Lords in the country.  A veteran in two wars, and I'd like to think my experience has lead to some small skill in stake-craft and understand-" 

"Uncle," Sansa interrupted, feigning a warm smile as she and her siblings looked to one of their last living relatives. "Please sit." 

Rhaella resisted the urge to snort. 

"Why does it have to be just us that chooses someone?" Rhaella would've much rather preferred that Sam remain behind in the refugee camp to check in on Jaime, but yet here the half-Maester sat, almost as if he had an opinion. "We represent all the great Houses, but whoever they chose, they won't just rule over Lords and Ladies. Maybe the decision about what's best for everyone should be left to.. well, everyone." 

Raucous laughter erupted from the crowd. 

"Maybe we should give the dogs a vote as well." 

"I'll ask my horse!" 

Edmure turned his attention to Tyrion. "I suppose you would want the crown?" He asked. Tyrion shook his head. Right now all he wanted was a bath and to see Jaime. 

"Me? The Imp? Half the people hate me for serving Daenerys and the other half hate me for betraying her." He side-eyed Grey Worm and continued. "Can't think of a worse choice." 

"Who then?" Davos asked. 

Four pairs of eyes turned to the silver-haired princess. No word was said. Not yet. 

"I've had nothing to do but think these last few weeks. About our bloody history and the mistakes that we have made." He stepped forward, and forward, closer to those who stood before him. "What unites people? Armies? Gold? Flags?" Tyrion shook his head thoughtfully. "Stories. There's nothing in the world more powerful then a good story. Nothing can stop it, no enemy can defeat it, and who has a better story then Rhaella Targaryen?" 

Rhaella felt her heart drop into her stomach. 

"The girl who lived through the slaughter of her House, survived three wars even if she wasn't a key player on the front lines, and became a renowned dragon rider within only a few months. She commanded the respect of Tywin Lannister himself, is widely loved by all those she meets, and has more then proven that despite the fact she wishes not to take her claim to the Iron Throne that she is more then capable of being one of the best rulers Westeros has ever seen." 

"I-I have no interest in ruling! Have I not made that abundantly clear?" Rhaella stammered, baffled by the overwhelming amount of support that emanated from those who sat before her. 

"Lord Varys used to say that the best ruler would be the one who didn't wish to have the Throne." Tyrion replied. 

"Lady Targaryen is infertile. She cannot mother children." Sansa said informatively. 

Rhaella swallowed the bile rising in her throat and shifted underneath her cloak. Of course her nausea would suddenly reappear during the least convenient moment - "Good. Sons of Queens can be cruel and stupid, as you well know. Hers will never torment us." He turned around to face Grey Worm who had yet to say a word since the conversation had started. "That is the wheel our Queen wishes to break." 

"From now on, rulers will not be born. They will be chosen. On this spot by the Lords and Ladies of Westeros to serve the realm." Tyrion turned around to face Rhaella who bowed her head to meet his eyes, eyes of a brother she'd come to love so much in the time they'd known one another. "I know you don't want it. You've never wanted it. I know you don't care about power, but I'm asking you now. If we choose you, will you wear the crown? Will you lead the Seven Kingdoms to the best of your abilities, from this day until your last day?" 

Blue eyes shifted away from the youngest Lannister to the people who sat in front of her, and just as she'd done the day Cersei and Jaime had sat in those chairs, Rhaella Targaryen talked. 

"When I approached Daenerys in the throne room, I offered her a choice. She would either completely revoke her rights to the throne and receive a just punishment, or she would return to Meereen until her mind and body are healed from her losses. What many of you don't know is that the Targaryen madness is essentially contracted by frequent experience of loss." Quiet murmurs echoed in the air as she continued. "Daenerys and I have been in contact multiple times since she has been escorted to the Tower of The Hand, and she has informed me she wishes to return to Meereen for however long it takes before she feels she is ready to rule Westeros as the Queen that has been chosen. I will rule in her stead." 

"You're willing to appoint a murderer?!" 

"I'm willing to appoint a woman who has more then proven herself a caring, gentle-hearted Queen. I have heard countless stories of her compassion towards the slaves she encountered in Essos. Daenerys has received the opposite here. Fear breeds fear, and that is what the people have seen. They have not seen her, and with time.. I believe they will." She straightened her shoulders and slowly exhaled through her mouth to combat the nausea threatening to overwhelm her. It had been recurring since the first week after the destruction of King's Landing. "If it is the wish of those who stand before me, make it known." 

Tyrion spoke first. "To Rhaella of House Targaryen, I say I." 

Samwell followed. "I." 

Arya, Sansa, and Bran. "I." 

Brienne, who could not have looked more proud if she tried. "I." 

Edmure, Lord Royce, Robyn, Yara. "I." 

A rush of tears pricked her eyes as her smile widened. If she was going to be appointed as Queen by the Lords and Ladies of Westeros, Rhaella would've never anticipated there being such a majority in her favor.

"I thank you for your support, My Lords and Ladies. Before we depart, there are a few things I need to make known." All brows furrowed in confusion as Rhaella turned her attention to Tyrion. "When I take the throne in front of the public, I will need a Hand. I very much intend for that to be you." 

His resistence was, for lack of a better word, hilarious. "No, no Your Grace-" He pleaded. "I don't want it. I don't deserve it, not with you. I thought I was wise, but I wasn't. I thought I knew what was right, but I didn't. Choose Ser Davos, choose anyone else. I'll just fail you too." 

Rhaella knelt to his height and gripped his chin with her fingers. "You have never failed me, Tyrion." She replied firmly. "And besides, if I have to hold the position I don't want, you have to hold one too." Tyrion bowed his head to hide the tears swimming in his vision. "Sansa and Brienne, please stand." 

They complied easily, though confused by the action. "Sansa Stark, your House and the Northmen have more then proven your worth as a Kingdom to me since I fought alongside them in the Great War. They have fought and lost considerably, and I believe they have more then earned their freedom. I will grant the North the independence you desire for it." 

"Your Grace," Sansa breathed in awe. "That is most delightful-" 

"On one condition." The older woman's eyes twinkled proudly as she stepped closer to the eldest Stark daughter. "You are named Queen in the North, and Jon returns to Winterfell to be on your small council. He'll despise that. I think it's a more then just punishment." 

Arya snickered while Sansa gazed upon Queen Rhaella Targaryen-Lannister with pure wonder in her eyes. It reminded her of the little girl she'd met upon her arrival to King's Landing all those years ago with her father. 

"We'd want nothing more. Thank you, Your Grace." Sansa said as she bowed low to the ground. It was an improvement from her younger years. "But what of Ser Brienne?" Brienne of Tarth softened as her best friend approached her, hand wound around the pommel of Oathkeeper as it always sat at its place on her hip. 

"My request of you, Your Grace, is that you release Brienne of Tarth from your service and either enlist Podrick Payne or anyone else of your choosing to be your sworn sword. I have use of her." Brienne frowned at the remark and opened her mouth to argue in favor of remaining with Sansa, but was stopped as Rhaella held her hand up. "I'm in need of a Queensguard, Ser. I'd like you to be appointed as Lord Commander." 

That didn't surprise anybody, least of all Sansa. Brienne commanded as much respect as Rhaella did and was a true warrior at heart. Being the commander of The Queensguard was a fit position for a woman like herself. 

"I will agree to it if Ser Brienne is willing." Sansa replied. Brienne swallowed thickly and turned her gaze back to Rhaella, who was waiting and willing for whatever answer she was to give. 

"Once I'm released from Lady Sansa's service, I will take the appointment as your Lord Commander, Your Grace." She said. Rhaella beamed as Brienne nodded her confirmation. "It would be my privilege and my honor." 

"Splendid. This is wonderful!" Rhaella exclaimed. "Now, onto my other matter." She turned around to face Brandon Stark who had barely said a word in their time together at the Dragon Pit. "Brandon Stark, my lad. You fascinate me. Given what you've told me of all that you've seen, all the stories locked away inside that head of yours, I have a proposition for you." His dark eyes met her own. "If you are willing, I'd like for you to be my Master of Whisperers. I can't think of anyone more well suited for the job."  

Bran smiled. "I agree." He replied. "I can't think of anyone finer suited then a Three Eyed Raven." 

"Ah! That was what I forgot." She clapped her hands together and faced the people. "My last order of business is an official pardon for my husband, Ser Jaime Lannister. He was gravely injured by Euron Greyjoy and as far as I knew this morning, still lives." Rhaella looked to Samwell to confirm, and he did. 

"Lord Jaime sustained deep stab wounds to both his right and left side. I've managed to stop the bleeding and sew the wounds, but he's been sleeping quite a bit with the aid of milk of the poppy to make sure he doesn't aggravate his wounds further." Samwell said. 

"If no one objects to the pardon?" She waited for anyone to do so and found herself met with silence. "Good. Jaime Lannister will be serving as my temporary Master of War. Once Daenerys comes back to rule, he will be leaving with me. Where to, I do not know. I just know it'll be together." 

They departed with the chant of, "Long May She Reign!" 

***

Brienne met her just on the outskirts of the camp where Jaime was being tended to. "Are you going to tell him?" She asked. "That you're Queen?" 

Each of the soldiers guarding the camp bowed their head in respect as she entered it. It seemed news travelled fast along those who remained in the city. "Not yet." Rhaella replied. "Right now I just want to be a wife that is sure her husband is safe and alive." 

Both women paused as Rhaella parted the flap to gaze inside the tent. A small fire had been lit in the brazier that occupied the corner opposite the table of medical supplies, and Jaime was peacefully asleep in the cot before her. His beard and hair had been washed of blood and neatly trimmed to expose the sharp features of his face. 

Brienne noticed the sharp intake of breath and the tears of relief that flooded the blue eyes of her best friend almost immediately. "I'll leave you two alone for a little while." She whispered. "And I'll make sure that no one interrupts you." 

Rhaella nodded her thanks and disappeared inside of the tent. She knelt at his bedside and took his face in her hands as she gently tilted his head towards her. Here lay the infamous Kingslayer, the subject of scorn for both the high-borns and the small folk. Verbally torn apart by his father and sister, captured by Robb Stark and released by his mother, survivor of more then three wars and fabled Hero of the Siege of Pike. A man who should've long been dead, now warm and breathing and alive beneath her hands. 

She ran her thumb across the indentation of his bottom lip. 

"Jaime Lannister," She breathed. "Long have I loved you, and long have I waited to be here. Here in this tent with your ring on my finger, confident in our future and being your wife. You fought to be here, and you're fighting now, and I admire your strength so deeply. I've told you not enough and so I will tell you again." Quivering lips placed the ghost of a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I am so proud of you. It's long past due that you finally learn how to rest." 

Rhaella moved to stand and leave the tent to attend to her other matters as monarch but was stopped by the hand at her waist. 

"Wife." The hoarse voice echoed behind her. The Queen whipped around and gasped as green eyes fluttered open to meet her own. "I believe you were complimenting me there. I'd like to hear the rest of it." 

"Oh, so it takes you nearly dying to regain your sense of humor?" She retorted. "You're infuriating-''

That same breathless, wide, toothy grin he only ever showed her widened as it spread across his face. "Infuriating, insufferable man that you somehow still love in spite of it." 

"Yes, you imbecile." Rhaella dropped to her knees and took his face in her hands, claiming his mouth with her own in a hot kiss. Warm and pliant beneath her touch, Jaime groaned low in his throat as she coaxed his lips open and moved deeper into his mouth. He tasted of milk of the poppy and something so distinctly Jaime. "I love you." 

When they parted, Jaime wouldn't release his grip on her hair. Trembling fingers tangled in her hair as she tried, and failed, to fit into the curve of his body with the little space left on the cot. They settled for Rhaella fitting into the gap between his legs, hands braced on either side of his waist as she stared down at him in wonder. 

"Say it again." He whispered in the silence, wandering fingers traveling lower to unfasten the cloak and her leather. 

Rhaella said it without hesitation. "I love you." She repeated. "My Oathkeeper, my best friend, my husband. I love you more then you could ever know." 

"Say that last part again." He was diligently working on the knots of her tunic now. 

"Husband," She tutted. "Are you undressing me in a camp full of people?" 

"I am." 

"With the intention to-" 

Jaime surged upward and brought her back down to him, winding his arm around her waist to pull her body against his own just as her tunic fell open. "Ravish-" He rasped as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, grinning into their kiss as she gasped in surprise at how bold he was despite his injuries. "You-" 

"Good." She whispered as she caught his hand before it could touch her breast. "Maybe it's time I tell you then." He cocked his head and rose an eyebrow in confusion. "I'm currently the Queen of Westeros." 

Who may be pregnant with your child. 

Several different emotions flickered through his eyes in that moment.. most of which revolved back to shock so strong that he promptly passed out in her arms. 


	40. Rhaella Targaryen-Lannister, Second of Her Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two new Queens are crowned, a life is spoken into existence, and farewells are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is 99% over and I am SAD :(

[WARNING: There's some lovin' coming later, it's gonna get somewhat smutty, so you've been warned. I don't write smut, but I've read enough Braime to know how to do it non descriptively] 

She spent her first afternoon as unofficial Queen walking through the remains of The Red Keep to see how much of Cersei's presence still lingered. Rhaella had not yet received news about Jaime's discharge, so she'd sent Tyrion back into the city to bring back updated information about when her husband would be returning to her. 

And when he did come back, she wanted no remains of Cersei Lannister inside this castle. 

" _My Lady?_ " She peered up over Tywin's desk and gasped as Alice came back into the room. The last she'd seen of her former servant, she'd been left in the care of Sansa Stark and had no beliefs to be seeing her ever again. "Forgive me, Your Grace-" 

Rhaella shook her head and grabbed the letters Cersei had been writing to the other Houses of Westeros before she had died. "No formal titles are necessary whenever it's just us, my girl. Why are you down here? I thought you were in Winterfell!" She exclaimed. 

"I accompanied Sansa down here when she was sent for." Alice replied. "And to be honest, Rhaella... I missed you. It's a lonely life when my sister is no longer around." 

Rhaella stilled. "I'm sorry about that. I wish I could've saved her." 

The younger girl crossed the room, took the letters from her hand, and gave a sad smile as she squeezed her arm. "You  _did_ save her." She said softly. "You saved us both, and she wanted you to know that she'd always be grateful for it." Alice peered down at the correspondence in her hand. "Would you like me to burn these?" 

Rhaella ran her hands over her stomach and nodded. "Yes, please. In fact, if you see anything with Cersei's name on it, burn it. Burn it all. I want no reminder of that woman ever again." 

"I'll do as you ask, Your Grace." 

***

" _Your coronation will be in the morning, Your Grace. Many of the remaining Lords and Ladies who were at the gathering will be in attendance, as will your sister. She's asked your permission to stay until after it's concluded, and then she will depart for Essos."_

The night brought her to the only undamaged chambers for the royal family. It was a large, spacious room - with gold and red accents along the walls and the bed and more then enough clothing for her to wear.. well, for now anyway. A large mahogany table stood in the middle and was covered in every food she could have asked for. 

It just seemed like too much. 

Rhaella brought a grape to her lips and thought about her conversation with Samwell Tarly earlier that afternoon. The young man hadn't been thrilled that she'd revoked his status as Grand Maester and would be sending for a new one once he was not of use, but he was to remain within the city limits for as long as there were injured small folk. 

" _Forgive me, Your Grace. I meant no ill intent."_

_"There is no problem between myself and you, Sam. But for what I am in need of it will require the presence of your wife, Gillie isn't it? Yes.. send for her immediately. I am in need of her assistance."_

Brienne came to her chamber door not long after she'd arrived, curious as to why Alice had sought her out and begged her to return to the Keep to assist the Queen. "Rhaella?" Brienne called out. Rhaella winced as a hand came to touch her breasts, which had been tender for quite some time now and hence why she hadn't allowed Jaime to touch them when she'd seen him. "May I come in?" 

"Enter, Brienne." 

Brienne had donned her Queensguard armor before coming to meet the Queen, curious to see what her opinion was of the design that Gendry had crafted. The Lord of the Stormlands was acting as her smith for the time being and had crafted a beautifully gold and white plated armor with a curved dagger in the center of the chest plate. Dragons were overkill. She didn't want that to be how people thought of their Queen. 

"Alice came to find me." She said, furrowing her brow as Rhaella ran her hands over her face and sank into the chair at the dining table. "She said you sent for Gillie and myself to assist you with.. something. She didn't say what." The Lady Knight tilted her head and pressed her hands against her hips. Rhaella laughed at the sight. It looked like her mother had whenever she'd been scolded as a child. "Care to tell me what you won't already say?" 

"I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant." Rhaella blurted out. 

She was expecting shock. Shock, anger,  _something_ other then the wide grin Brienne gave her. Rhaella saw her smile more when she was alone around other people she trusted most, and she hadn't seen her smile as much as she had since Jaime had knighted her. 

" _Gods,_ " She breathed. "You-I thought you were infertile!" 

The Queen ran a hand over her stomach. "Cersei never let the Maester near her, and with just cause. Pycelle was a fool. I'm not surprised he was wrong. Even then.. I have my doubts that I will carry the child to term." 

"Have you told Jaime?" 

"Not yet. Gillie-" A soft knock sounded on the door. "Is meant to confirm it, but I'm almost nearly sure. I'm having aversion to half the meat the castle cooks are cooking. I'm having to use the chamber pot more frequently, my breasts hurts so much I cannot bring myself to let my husband touch them, and I'm  _exhausted._ So yes. I'm pretty sure." 

The Wildling woman smiled softly as Brienne entered the room. "Your Grace," She greeted. "I must say that I'm honored to have been called upon by you. I didn't think-" 

Rhaella held a hand up. "As much as I may appear to, I am not fond of your husband. It has nothing to do with  _him,_ but more of the way he abused the system of the Citadel and still believes himself to be a Maester. That title is  _earned,_ not given. And as for me... I believe I'm pregnant. I want you to confirm it." 

"Samwell told me of your infertility. You don't believe it to be so?" 

"Not anymore." 

Gillie nodded and motioned to the bed. "If you could roll your gown up, Your Grace. This should only take a few moments." 

Brienne could see the growing worry ebbing way the naturally emotionless expression of her dearest friend as Gillie examined her. Rhaella had spent nearly her entire life believing she would not have the things that had been given to her within the last month or more: A crown, a husband, a  _baby_ , a home. She'd spent her life ignoring her desires.. and she was about to have them all after years of waiting for it. 

"Your Grace-" 

She tipped her head back on the pillow. "No formalities now, Gillie. Just tell me." 

" _You're pregnant._ " 

***

Tyrion insisted on having a carriage escort him and Jaime back to the Red Keep given how long of a walk it was from the refugee camp, but he couldn't seem to keep his brother still enough to ensure he wouldn't fall out onto the road and crack his skull.

" _Jaime-_ " Tyrion deadpanned, grabbing his brothers arm and wrenching him back down into the seat. "If I have to pull you down one more time, I'm going to have Tarly give you so much milk of the poppy you'll be begging for death." 

"I can't help it." He couldn't. The last time Jaime had seen Rhaella had been barely two daysago, when she'd briefly mentioned being the new Queen of Westeros before she'd left him unconscious in the refugee camp. He'd asked nearly everyone who came to see him questions about her whereabouts, but it was always the same thing. He'd spent weeks healing from his stab wounds and asking after the state of the city and its people, and he was anxious to get home to his  _Queen._

 _"_ It's barely been two days!" 

"Two  _agonizing_ days." Jaime retorted. Tyrion saw the smile out of the corner of his eye from the flickering torchlights that now lined the main roads of King's Landing. He didn't think he'd seen Jaime smile as much as he had since he'd married Rhaella and left Cersei behind in his past. "Now, little brother, I'd like to see my wife." 

Tyrion whistled to the guards on duty to open the gate that lead into The Red Keep, and he guided the horse drawn cart through the streets until they came upon the main staircase. Brienne of Tarth stood at the top, dressed in the white cloak of the Lord Commander, and in deep conversation with Podrick Payne. 

"The boy is to be knighted after the coronation." Jaime obviously wasn't surprised by this. "And then he's going to be sent back North to be the sworn-sword of the Queen in the North. Apparently they're quite fond of each other." 

 _Queen in the North?_  He assumed Tyrion was speaking of Sansa Stark, but he'd never thought that the eldest surviving Stark child would actually get the freedom she so desperately wanted for the Northerners. He couldn't think of anyone finer suited to rule Winterfell either, especially after what she'd gone through and what she'd learned since Robert Baratheon had brought her and her father to King's Landing. 

"Ah, Ser Jaime." Brienne's eyes glinted in that way that made him nervous, like she knew something they didn't. "I'm glad to see you well. The Queen is waiting for you inside, if you'd follow me." 

Enraptured by the thought of what lay within, Jaime followed on the heels of The Lady Knight until she came upon the throne room. The bodies had been cleared and the blood scrubbed from the floors, and it seemed those who remained in the city who were skilled workers were beginning repairs on the Throne Room first. 

"We-" Tyrion motioned to himself, Podrick and Brienne. "Will leave you alone. Remember there's a coronation in the morning. Try not to..  _you know._ " Jaime swallowed the knot in his throat and nodded before he turned back to the door and disappeared inside. "I don't suspect we'll be hearing from them again tonight.''

"No, I suppose not." 

Jaime Lannister allowed his eyes to sweep across the throne room where he'd been on _two_  of the worst days of his life, and when his eyes finally settled on the Iron Throne, the breath left his lungs. 

A fitted silver crown, not too small and not too large. A off the shoulder dress that left far too much exposed but  _thrilled_ him the longer he stared at the plunging neckline that descended down her torso. Silver hair loosely framing a grinning expression that only brightened as he walked deeper into the room. 

"Hello husband." Rhaella drawled. "Did you miss me?" 

"Oh, wife." He replied in awe. It felt so..  _good_ to be able to show his desire for her in the public eye. It felt good to be able to look at her and feel warmth spread through him. To gaze upon her and appreciate her beauty without fear of being ridiculed or scorned by others. She was  _his_ , and he was  _hers._ "You look.." 

"Ravishing? Divine?" 

"I was going to say ethereal." His eyes settled on her crown. "I'm oddly intrigued by the crown. Who made it?" 

"Gendry did." Rhaella stood to her feet and beckoned him forward with a single finger. "I asked him to fashion it after the crown of my mother. Daenerys and Viserys had to sell it whenever they were begging in the free cities of Essos, but I managed to make a crude drawing for him to go off of. He didn't disappoint." Her hand extended to grasp his own as he closed the gap between them and enveloped her body with his arms, sighing as he was enveloped in a familiar warmth so comforting to him that Jaime allowed himself to relax in her embrace. "It's meant to be passed down. My mother had originally intended to pass it on to me as I would've taken the throne if anything were to happen to Rhaegar. I intend to pass it down to  _our_ daughter or son, no matter where we end up." 

That caught his attention. 

Jaime lifted his face from her shoulder and stared into her eyes, looking for any sign of deception or trickery. He found none. "Did-" He paused, anxious to appear too eager at what she was very clearly insinuating. "Don't toy with me, Rhaella." 

He watched in disbelief as she spread his fingers across his abdomen and used her other hand to tilt his chin up to meet teary blue eyes. "I'm not, Jaime." She whispered, grinning as he began laughing - laughing in disbelief and then anxiety over finally being a father and then laughing out of _joy._ "Gillie confirmed it for me earlier this evening. I prayed for the first time in quite a while after The Long Night. I prayed for a miracle. It came." 

He didn't talk for a long minute. Jaime wasn't sure if he was going to break down in hysterics that he'd been repressing since he'd seen Cersei's body at the foot of the Iron Throne, or if he was going to take his wife right here on this floor to celebrate. He did know one thing though: No child in the whole of Westeros would ever be loved the way he'd love theirs, because he was going to do it right this time. He'd be in the birthing bed steadying his wife, he'd change the baby and remain awake when they wouldn't sleep. He'd teach it how to survive and how to swim and how to  _run_ and how to  _live._

And oh, how he'd love that child. 

"Are you afraid? Are you angry?" 

Jaime's eyes snapped up to meet hers. If he was afraid, oh.. she was  _terrified._ "Why would I be angry with you?" He asked lowly. "This child,  _our_ child, is the first thing I've ever made that's born of real love! My Queen-" 

"Say that again." 

Oh, he remembered this with Cersei. [AUTHORS NOTE: Rhaella totally has a kink. Sorry LOL]

Jaime spread his hand against the small of her back and pulled her flush against him, giving an experimental roll of his hips. " _My-_ " He gently tugged her ear in between his teeth and allowed his teeth to drag slowly across the lobe. " _Queen._ " 

She dragged him through the Keep and into the bedroom. It seemed that any discomfort she'd had earlier that evening was gone, because the minute the door shut, Rhaella started stripping him much more urgently then she'd ever done in their time together both before and after they'd been married. Jaime gave into his desires. It was so easy. 

He turned her around and eyed the back of her gown. Rhaella practically trembled beneath his touch as his fingers slowly dragged across the expanse of her shoulders until the straps were loosely hanging in the air. She pressed herself against the growing hardness in his trousers and whined as his lips began trailing against hot, flushed skin. 

King's Landing was quiet below them. There was no other soul around. 

Just them. 

"J-Jaime-" She panted. "What are you  _doing?_ " 

"Taking my time." 

He slowly undid the laces on the back of the gown with his good hand, never letting up on the trail of kisses that was traveling dangerously lower and lower. Rhaella had already worked him out of his leather and was trying to remove his shirt, but he wasn't keen on her seeing the rather unattractive scars that had come with his wounds from Euron. 

The dress pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it. Rhaella was just at the earliest stages of her pregnancy, but Jaime could already  _see_ the way she glowed in the light of the fire in their chambers. "Magnificent." He breathed. The Queen quirked an eyebrow. "I can see it, y'know. The signs." 

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me." 

Gladly. 

Jaime crossed the room as she stood before the bed, eyes never leaving his own as he stopped in front of her and extended his fingers to graze the top of each breast. She watched him, enraptured at how someone who had been brought up in a cold, cruel world could still manage to show the gentleness he'd never been given. "These." He whispered. "They're swollen. Larger. That was one of the first signs with-" 

Cersei. 

The name hung heavily in the room despite the fact that she'd already been buried. Everyone else wanted to burn her like they had the other bodies, but not Jaime. No. He wanted her at Casterly Rock with the rest of the Lannisters, and that was where she was. "Hey. You're allowed to still love Cersei. I will never tell you you aren't because she was your  _family_ , but she's your past." Her fingers carded through his beard and drew wandering eyes back to her own. " _We_ are your future." 

He trailed a finger across a peaked nipple. Rhaella gasped at the shock of his touch and urged Jaime closer, waiting waiting  _waiting_ for him to lose his self control and to just _take her._ "You," Jaime murmured as he pressed his hand against her abdomen. The abdomen he thought would never be swelled with his child. "Are my  _home."_

Her knees hit the mattress and her body sank into silk. Jaime fell into the gap between her legs as anxious fingers worked at the knots on his trousers. "I love you." Rhaella spoke as she worked. "I love you, I do. I love you passionately and recklessly and unconditionally. I love your resilience and your passion and your devotion, I-" 

Jaime caught her hands and pinned them above her head. He hadn't bothered wearing small clothes that morning because he'd had the very intention to do  _exactly_ this when he'd come home. " _I love you too._ " Her toes dragged across the small of his back and he urged her legs higher to nestle in the divot of his hips, and he drove himself _deep_ into the warmth and familiarity of home. And then he kissed her, he kissed her  _hard_ and  _long_ and  _deep_ and _wanting_. 

If he thought being with Rhaella had been exhilarating the first time, doing it now and knowing she was carrying his child was an entirely new thrill. Her body was more sensitive, she gasped at certain ministrations and writhed at others. Her skin was raw, reddened by his lips and teeth and tongue, and Jaime found he could just  _not_ get enough. 

Moaning and whining and teeth and tongue and lips and heavy breathing and panting and  _gods_ if this was heaven, he hoped he'd be forgiven of his sins and allowed to remain there forever. 

Up and down he went, drinking her in greedily. He thought the night would've revolved around pleasure the Queen of Westeros, and then his entire world was flipped whenever he suddenly found himself against the mattress with his wife sitting on him. 

_Oh._

"Someone got daring." Jaime mused. He waited for her reply, and found none, and then he realized she had seen he was still wearing his shirt. 

"When I tumbled into bed with you, I was fully anticipating the rules would be all clothes  _off._ " Rhaella demanded. "C'mon, husband. Let me see." 

He knew she accepted him as wholly as he accepted her, so it shouldn't have been something Jaime shied away from, but he did. Rhaella noticed his reluctance and leaned forward to unknot the knot at his neck. After a minute of struggling with the fabric, it was tossed into the corner of the room along with her dress, and her lustful gaze softened at the red pair of scars on his sides. 

"You killing Euron saved Cersei from an inevitably worse death." She whispered. Jaime watched as she bent her head and placed the ghost of a kiss upon the ridged scars, fingers gently grazing the length of them before she looked back up at him. "Your scars are meant to act as the consequence of both your happiest and saddest stories. They serve as reminders of your pain," Rhaella took his left hand and then looked to his stump. "And as for that.. I plan on having my dragon melt that hand in the morning." She hastily undid the fastenings and laid it on the floor. "Infernal thing." 

Her hand came up to lace with his own, and she guided his stump to rest against the curve of her hip. 

Jaime watched her in wonder. He'd always been giving in his relationship with Cersei. Giving into her desires when she'd fallen pregnant and when she wanted to be filled and in quiet corners of The Red Keep when no one else is around simply because she needed something to do.  

And now... now he he got to  _receive._

"Your Grace-" 

"Gods, if you keep calling me that-" She snarled and took his mouth with her own. Her kiss was like the dragon fire - hot and burning and entirely all consuming, and he realized that if he were to die tonight, he'd be thrilled to leave the world this way. " _Husband,_ we're getting you a hook. I hate that hand. I love  _you_ and your sacrifice for both Brienne and I, but I hate that hand." 

He wasn't going to argue. 

"What are you going to do with me now, hm?" He asked, gasping as she pulled away and stared down at him through hooded blue eyes. Throughout their time together, Jaime had been the one to give into her own desires. She had never been with a man and thus had nothing to compare it to. He was eager to learn all the things he hadn't known before he fell into her bed with her. What she loved, what she hated, what made her gasp and moan and cry out his name. 

Her gaze fell lower, and before Jaime could argue, she took him in her hand and sank onto him. 

They hadn't done this yet, but she still seemed to know exactly what she was supposed to be doing. It was gradual, at first. Slow and steady as she figured out the mechanics, and then Rhaella Targaryen threw herself into abandon. 

Jaime came, and he came  _hard_ , but not before a long, guttural cry of his name pierced the air as he flipped them back over and pinned her body to the bed with his weight as he softened inside of her. Warm fingers raked through his hair as he nuzzled her neck. 

" _That_ was something." He whispered, and the laughter that exuded from her was well worth the effort. "I don't know about you, but I could go for round two." 

"You? The old man with the libido who gave out when you were twenty five?" Rhaella laughed and pressed her lips to his temple. "We can't.  _I_ have a coronation in the morning." 

"It's barely midnight." She found herself missing the fullness of him being inside her as Jaime slipped out of her and sank into her side, head resting on her shoulder. His stump was hidden beneath the array of pillows they were propped up on, and his fingers were tracing up and down her stomach. " _You_ still have childbearing years left." 

"Excuse you, I already have one child within me!" 

"Yes, but who's to say you won't carry two more? Or three?" 

"How many kids do you  _want?_ " 

"As many as you'll allow me to have!" 

The laughter fell into comfortable silence as her fingers danced up and down the dip of his spine. His eyes were cast out the open door of their balcony, overlooking the flickering torchlight of the city below. People still lived. A country still lived, a country in desperate need of the right ruler who'd do whatever it took to provide for them the best possible way. 

"I'd think, after the reconstruction is done, I'd like to find a house on the sea." He'd never said anything of what he wanted after the war was over, and so Rhaella listened as he continued talking. "Not too big, not too small. Just something quaint. I'm tired of regal and royalty and castles. I want a home that's just for us and our children. I want to be a father this time."

He slung his left arm across her waist and tangled his legs with her own. Jaime was much more fatigued then he let on. "You will be." Rhaella whispered. She cupped the back of his head in her hand and sighed as weariness sank deep into her bones. Tomorrow would be a long day. "You will."  

She had the money to give him what he wanted. Money he didn't know about, money Daenerys had left over from her war effort. Rhaella was sure her sister would give her enough to purchase a house. 

Her thoughts fell on a little island between Westeros and Essos. An island with sapphire waters and a sunburst sigil on their banners. 

"I think I know just the place." 

***

Podrick and Tyrion intended to drag Jaime out of the royal chambers just after they broke their fast the next morning. Tyrion didn't care if Jaime had slept two hours or eight. This day was important, and he-

"Gods, Jaime." Podrick stifled laughter as the chamber door opened, and his big brother opened it to greet them. It was quite obvious, given the state his brother was in, what he'd been doing when they'd left the throne room that night. "Can you not control yourself for  _one_ night?" 

"Excuse you," Jaime retorted. He was already somewhat dressed in dark leathers, the top loosened and his long hair messy by the fingers that had run through it. "The Queen of Westeros went to sleep at an appropriate time. I followed suit." 

"And what time did you wake?" 

"Just before dawn." Jaime bent down to Tyrion's level to whisper in his ear. "She was rather.. _eager_ this morning." 

Tyrion snorted. "Get dressed," He urged. "Fix that mess you call hair and meet us outside the White Sword Tower, or what's left of it. Some of us have a gift for you." Jaime nodded and disappeared back inside their chambers. 

Rhaella was once again asleep on her side facing the balcony, silver hair fanning over her pillow and hands tucked beneath her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered as she was mid-dream. Jaime hoped it was pleasant. 

He bent down and pressed a kiss to her temple before gently running his fingers over her abdomen. "Today is a new day, Your Grace." He whispered in her ear. "I believe it will be most pleasant." 

He left the room without another word. 

When Sansa, Arya and Alice went to The Queen's chambers to help her prepare for the coronation, Jaime went to the White Sword Tower to meet his brother, Podrick and Bronn. All three men were already well into their morning routines, practicing light sparring and eagerly chatting about the coronation. What he wasn't expecting, however, was that Daenerys Targaryen would be among them. 

She was clearly still reluctant to speak to Tyrion after what had happened, but she was basking in the morning sunlight, dressed in a loosely fitting red and black gown with a gold belt across her hips. Her hair was no longer fashioned in its Dothraki braids but hung around her shoulders the same way her sisters often did. The most remarkable part, however, was the fact that she was  _smiling._

"Good morning, Ser Jaime." He paused at the use of his proper name and smiled to the best of his ability at the younger Targaryen. "It is a beautiful day for a coronation, isn't it?" 

The men hadn't noticed his presence yet, so Jaime decided he was going to take the opportunity to speak with Dany before she was to depart for Essos later that afternoon. "It is, Daenerys." He replied. The Dragon Queen stretched her legs across the boulders she sat on and watched the swordplay occurring in the courtyard. "You are.. alot happier then the last time I saw you." 

"I've had much time to think since I was placed in the Tower of the Hand. About what I did, about our past and our future.. about where I stand in that." Daenerys twisted the only ring she still wore on her finger. "My sister informed me that day of what occurred when my father died. I do not know of  _your_ perspective, but she told me enough." 

Jaime bristled. "That was not her story to tell." He replied through gritted teeth. "I do not know where-" 

"She said she heard it in a steam-tub at the ruins of Harrenhal." Of course she had. "I do not judge you for your actions that day, Ser Jaime. I think them valiant and honorable, and it contradicts everything I was brought up learning about you. For that I apologize." Well.. he hadn't been expecting that. "I only ask one thing of you before I am to depart for Essos after my sister's coronation. Take care of her." Daenerys' eyes glistened as she looked back down to Tyrion. "As I take care of my state of mind and all I have endured, remember what you too have endured when you go to sleep at night alongside your wife. Remember the lost, the saved, the healed. Remember the ones who've yet to come." 

"I will. Thank you, Daenerys." He stood to his feet and looked down at The Dragon Queen. He often forgot how  _young_ she really was. "And when you return from Essos, I suspect you will either have a niece or nephew." 

Jaime left her after that and saw none of her reaction to his news. What he _did_ see though was Bronn grinning wickedly at him as he presented Widow's Wail, the blade he thought he'd lost, newly repaired and pommel replaced with a lion head and two glittering rubies acting as its eyes. The same color ruby that had been in Keeper. 

_Oh, you infernal woman._

 He missed the shock on the face of The Dragon Queen as she processed what Jaime had told her. House Targaryen was not dust and ash, it would continue to live on through her sister. 

And for that, Dany wept. 

***

A crown braid for Sansa. 

The dagger for Jaime and Arya. 

A blue gown for Brienne. 

Her crown for her mother and Daenerys. 

The Targaryen sigil at her breast for Jorah. 

The Iron Throne had been replaced with a temporary seat, but that had not mattered to her. The smiths, including Gendry, were working on building something different. Smaller and less attention calling, but a suitable replacement for the vile thing that had corrupted half of the people who had sat in it. 

" _All hail Queen Rhaella Targaryen, Second of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, The Rhoynar, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."_

She hadn't bothered paying attention to Tyrion as he had orchestrated the majority of the ceremony. Her focus was on the people who were in the crowd. Sansa and Arya stood behind their brother, beaming proudly as " _Long May She Reign!_ " echoed in the throne room. The two girls had been split apart by circumstances and drawn back by a desire to reclaim all they'd lost since coming to King's Landing the first time, and now Sansa was Queen and Arya was off to explore the oceans west of Westeros. The places where the maps stopped. 

They'd be okay. 

Daenerys and Grey Worm were in attendance too. Her sister looked much better then she had in the days following the massacre on the city. Rhaella had expected some type of resistance or bitterness or resentment, something other then the joy that was evident in her eyes. She'd leave this afternoon to return to Daario Naharis and mend her fragile state of mind. She'd heal. She'd be okay too. 

Alice was beaming, jumping up and down on her feet beside Ser Cederic, who couldn't have looked less pleased to be in King's Landing but still gave a courtesy clap. 

Her eyes fell on Jaime and Brienne last. Brienne, her first and only friend that had managed to survive due to sheer will and strength, who had embraced her just as Rhaella had embraced her in return despite the way they'd brought up. Brienne was the best of women, of friends, and of Knights. She would be an exceptional Commander of the Queensguard. 

And then there was Jaime. Jaime who  _giggled_ when she kissed him all over his face, Jaime who blushed when she'd called him Master of War (he'd taken it way out of context, but why are we surprised) Jaime who cradled her heart and kept it safe, Jaime who loved and loved and loved without expecting to ever get anything in return. Jaime, Jaime Lannister, Her Keeper, her husband and the father of her child. 

And oh.. she loved him. 

" _Long May She Reign!"_

Despite his reluctance to let her sit the throne that had ruined both of their families, he and Brienne were clapping rather proudly. 

As the crowd departed the throne room and continued on the repairs to the Keep and to the city, Rhaella remained behind with the other high-borns of her Small Council and who were preparing to depart the city to return to their homes. Sansa and Arya would be leaving that afternoon, as would Daenerys, and she wanted to give proper farewells. 

Dany smiled as she adjusted her crown and stepped off the dais, whispering as she pressed a kiss to her fingers and laid them against the rest of her current throne. 

_This is for you, Mother._

"Your husband tells me you are with child." Daenerys whispered in her ear, as they had not told many of the pregnancy yet. There was a childlike eagerness to her words, the words of a soon to be aunt who had never imagined she'd ever get to hold a Targaryen baby. "When I return, I expect to see that child. I hope it has your hair." 

Rhaella snorted. "I hope it has his." She mused in reply. The two sisters looked at one another and enveloped each other in a hug that knocked the breath from them both. It would be the last time they'd hug for quite a while, and Daenerys needed the affirmation that someone was waiting for her imminent return. "And when you return, I expect you to take that throne back." 

"It would be my honor. I think I have to earn it back first." 

"You will." Rhaella stepped away from Dany and smiled warmly. "Farewell, Dany. Write to me when you arrive in Meereen. I want to know you're safe." 

Daenerys bowed low to the ground and parted her hair from her eyes. There was no  _I love yous_ , they didn't need them. She knew her sister cared for her. 

The Dragon Queen ushered her own Master of War out the doors with her and down to the bottom of the Keep where Drogon and Rhaegal had been spending the majority of their time when they weren't out hunting. 

Rhaella spent her afternoon convening with her small council. Herself, Bran, Tyrion, Brienne, Jaime, Davos, Samwell, and Bronn. Bronn's appointment had been because of Tyrion's influence. He was hard to say no to, and even then, she still despised the man and had no desire to make him Master of Coin. There weren't many other candidates, and so she kept him there for her own amusement as it was rather entertaining to see him bicker with Jaime and Tyrion. Samwell knew his appointment was also temporary, as Alice had already sent the correspondence to the Citadel for a new Grand Maester to be sent to King's Landing to work under the current Queen. 

Sam sat a large book down in front of Tyrion and across from Jaime. 

"What is this?" He asked. 

" _A Song of Ice and Fire._ " Sam replied. ''Archmaester Eebrose's history of the wars following the death of King Robert. I helped him with the title." 

"I suppose I come in with some heavy criticism." 

"Oh, well.. I wouldn't say  _that-"_

Jaime and Rhaella eyed each other. 

"Oh, he's kind to me!" Tyrion exclaimed as he flipped through the pages. "I never would've guessed." Tyrion eyed the Maester who had yet to reply. "He's not kind?" 

"He-" 

"What does he say about me?" 

"I-I don't believe you're mentioned." 

Rhaella shook her head and extended her hands for the book. "Yeah, no." She interjected. Tyrion guffawed as she slammed the cover and slid it back across the table to Tarly. "If that book doesn't include The Blackwater or The Goldroad or The Long Night, it's not worth my time or my effort to read it." 

"Your Grace-" 

"I'm serious, Tarly." Her gaze turned dark. "If these two Lannisters on either side of me are not explicitly covered in that material, I don't want it anywhere near this castle. If the people who made the history are not involved in its telling, what are we really telling the future generations? That the little people cannot be the heroes?" Tyrion pressed his lips together as she met his gaze. "That will not do. Get it done." 

"Yes, Your Grace." Samwell murmured, tucking his head in shame as he fled the room. 

"Well, it seems I have my entire Council except a Master of Law. Lord Commander, Master of Ships, Master of Coin, Master of War, Master of Whisperers. I feel rather content with you." Bronn rose an eyebrow and laughed as she wrinkled her nose. "Except maybe Ser Bronn. I'd rather you be back in Highgarden." 

"You can never get enough of my lovely face, Your Grace." 

"I've had  _lifetimes_ of that face and I want no more, but I'll have to suffer for now." She folded her hands in front of her. "The coronation is complete, Daenerys is due for Essos with Drogon, and the repairs are steady. Brienne," Rhaella turned her attention to the Knight. "Has Podrick been knighted?" 

"He has, Your Grace. He was knighted and is set to return to Winterfell to be the sworn sword of Lady Sansa." 

"Splendid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave the remainder of you to attend to whatever this council does when its Queen is not in session." 

Rhaella left them alone in the room after that.

Tyrion turned back to Bronn. "Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of The Reach and Master of Coin." He said. "Do you feel that the crowns debt has been paid to you in full?" 

"Very much so, My Lord Hand." 

"Good, because now it's time to start inquiring on a new one.'' Tyrion replied. "We have hungry people to feed. Can we except some assistance in this regard?" 

"Indeed." Bronn said. 

"Lord Davos! We have an armada to rebuild and ports to repair." 

"Indeed we do, Lord Hand. These projects will begin as soon as Master of Coin and Lord of Lofty Titles provides funding." Davos replied, to which Jaime snorted loudly enough to make Brienne smirk at the remark. 

"Master of Coin looks forward to helping The Master of Ships, but first he has to ensure that we are not wasting coin or soon there won't be no more coin." 

"Anymore." 

"What, are you Master of Grammar now too?" 

Tyrion turned to Jaime, who had mostly been silent during the entire ordeal. "Master of War, Jaime Lannister." He mused. "For what remains of our forces, regroup and rebuild. Inventory our armory and set to fixing that which can be repaired. We will inevitably need it in the future. And also.. train new soldiers. I'm sure the Lord Commander will be more then willing to help you with that." 

"At once, Lord Hand." 

"Speaking of builders and fixers, all the best brothels burned down." Bronn interjected. "The Master of Coin is willing to fund reconstruction." 

"I don't think your Queen will enjoy that idea very much." Jaime warned. "Her servant was almost sold to a brothel." He turned to his brother. "Gods help me, if you so much as try to tell that joke-" 

"I think we can all agree that ships take precedence over brothels." Brienne said. 

" _Thank you!_ " 

"I once brought an ass and a honeycomb into a brothel-" 

Jaime slammed his hand agains the table so hard that it startled Tyrion right out of his chair and onto the floor, and the entirety of the Small Council broke into laughter. 

***

When one coronation ends, another begins. 

When Sansa Stark returned home to Winterfell with Jon and Podrick Payne, she was immediately swept away in a flurry of coronation preparations by the servants who had remained in Winterfell when she'd been called to King's Landing. She had her assurances that Arya would be returning to Westeros every so often, and Bran would be making trips to Winterfell when he was able, so she felt less lonely without the presence of Brienne at her side as she had been for so long. 

What she hadn't been expecting was to slowly and gradually fall in love with Podrick Payne over that time either. Not after what she'd been through. 

She had simply fallen in love with the details of her coronation dress. While she had seen the meanings behind each piece Rhaella had worn in her own, all of Sansa's history was in that dress. The leaves for the Godswood of winterfell, the scales and color for House Tully of her mother, the wolf crown for House Stark that Robb had never been able to wear. 

Her hair was loose and flowing. She was no longer attempting to be somebody else, to be what her circumstances made her. She was Sansa Stark, Queen in the North. It was that simple now. 

The Northerners bowed as she passed them. 

_Not a little bird anymore, huh Clegane?_

"The Queen in the North!" 

" _The Queen in the North!"_

 _"_ The Queen in the North!" 

From where he stood among the crowd, Jon Snow watched on as his cousin received her crown, and he smiled. 

Maybe some people did get their happy endings. 

><><><><><><<><><><><><

**_i worked so hard on this final chapter for you guys, so i really hope you liked it. I'm gonna wait a couple days to post the epilogue before this concludes our time with Keeper. I have to admit it, I'm sad. Before I posted this fic, I was still in community college. I was still somewhat timid and afraid to give my heart to people, and I really do think Rhaella has helped me grow._ **

**_I never thought in a million years that this would end up the most popular Jaime fic, so thank you for that. I also never expected such positive feedback either. I know some of you probably weren't thrilled she ended up with Jaime, but I was so disappointed in how his story ended in the show that I had to write something better for him. It broke my heart. For real._ **

**_So before we go, tell me a_ ** **_story. Doesn't have to be long or short, just your own words. What brought you here? Why do you love this fic? What compelled you to stay and read it?_ **


	41. Epilogue: Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End.

[This chapter is in present tense]

_And I want to build a home, for you.. for me.._

Much to her disbelief, Brienne isn't even remotely surprised whenever Rhaella came looking for her and began inquiring about a cottage on the sea built on Tarth. It's far enough away that Westeros could be a distant memory, but close enough if urgency needed to call them home. 

"He wants a house by the sea?" 

Month three of her pregnancy was fast approaching, and Rhaella ran her hand over the growing swell of her abdomen. "He does. So do I." She replied. It's not entirely what Brienne was looking for in regards to  _answers,_ but if Jaime and Rhaella want it.. They'll have it. 

_Until it disappeared  
From me  
From you_

_And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust_

Jaime watches as her ship with the sunburst on the sail left for Tarth less then a week later. No one will tell him where The Lady Knight is going, but he thinks she's desperately been missing her father and thus went to visit him after so long apart. 

The construction on the Targaryen-Lannister house began less then a fortnight later. 

Westeros thrives underneath the reign of their Targaryen queen. Crops were plentiful, houses and taverns (much to her chagrin,  _brothels_ ) are rebuilt and families restored. The Small Council isn't nearly as uppity as they'd been underneath Robert and Joffrey. Jaime heals, he  _heals_ and the sight of him freer then he's ever been makes both her heart and the baby within her joyful. Her pregnancy is off without a problem. Gillie checks her three times a month because Jaime won't let her  _not_ assure him that his baby will be carried to term. 

When she sleeps at night, Jaime Lannister whispers to his child about their future. It's going to be pleasant, he assures, on a cottage by the sea with no one to tell us what to do, who to love, how to live. He's never been more excited for anything in his life. 

He takes Rhaella in the morning and at night. He takes her slow and tender and he takes her hard and rough because she  _wants_ and he  _gives_ because she's giving him more in their short time together as husband and wife then Cersei ever did. 

He learns to love the sound of laughter,  _her_ laughter, and the way she makes him feel full and complete and  _loved._

***

**_Month Six_ **

Daenerys writes. She writes three sentences, she builds cathedrals and palaces out of her words to her sister because she has the time to do that. When she arrives in Meereen, Daario Naharis is waiting for her and Drogon and the  _second_ she is off her son, Daenerys Targaryen weeps. 

And he holds her.

 Daario is insistent she keeps in touch with Rhaella despite her reluctance, so she sits in the palace as he and the Ruling Council of Meereen meet with the people to discuss business, trade, to meet whatever their needs are if they are able. The Free Cities have thrived since she left them to return home, and she's thrilled because it means  _people_ are  _free_ and thriving without tyranny to oppress them. 

Dany had nightmares for the first month. She dreamt of Jorah being stabbed to death, of Viserion disappearing into endless ice and Missandei being decapitated on the gates of King's Landing. She dreams Jon kills her, that Rhaella isn't fast enough, and her last child carries her away from the ashes of her kingdom and back to Essos where the Red Priestesses of Asshai attempt to revive her. She never wakes. 

Gradually, over time, her mind begins to heal. As does her spirit, and her heart, and Daenerys finds she enjoys smiling so much more now then she ever did. She almost - _almost_ \- feels like the girl who dreamt about the yellow door and the lemon tree. She almost feels like who she'd been before Khal Drogo, before the Dothraki and the Unsullied and the thought terrifies her because if she reverts back to who she'd been, how was she to rule Westeros the way her sister was clearly doing so well? 

**_We await your return, Daenerys. Your Kingdom thrives._ **

She doesn't realize she's crying until she reads the last part of Rhaella's latest correspondence. 

**_As does the life of the newest Targaryen._ **

***

**_Month Eight_ **

Jaime forces The Queen to leave King's Landing in the grasps of her capable Hand for one week because she's restless and  _sad_ and experiencing hormonal changes he hadn't thought possible, so he takes her to Casterly Rock because she hasn't been there since they were children and Rhaella wants him to remember the  _good_ one last time before he vows to never return there. 

Brienne returns right before they're set to leave. Her skin is tanner then she's ever had it since being in Westeros, and it occurs to Rhaella that this is probably the longest she's ever been away from Westeros since before meeting Renly Baratheon. She whispers something low in Rhaella's ear and his wife beams at her best friend before urgently thanking her and slowly moving in his direction so they can depart.

When they arrive at Casterly Rock, Jaime stays away from the crypts that holds his family and tells her stories about Ser Arthur Dayne, about learning to swim by jumping off the cliffs and sneaking sweets into Tyrion's chamber whenever he was in trouble. He tells her about his mother's songs and the way he and Cersei used to nuzzle her chest as the words of some ancient lullaby hung heavy in the halls of Casterly Rock. 

" _What are you staring at?"_

There isn't another soul around. Jaime won't take The Rock as his own and Tyrion is stuck in the Capital, so the only person they've brought with them is Alice because gods forbid she goes into labor their week away from the Capital. There are a scattered amount of Lannister soldiers sent by Tyrion to guard the Keep during their visit. 

He won't call it home. Rhaella is home, their child is home. He won't call King's Landing home when it's taken nearly everything he loves from him. 

He wants to swim, so she agrees and they both strip down to nothing after arriving on the beach at the bottom of the cliff. Jaime realizes he hasn't truly appreciated what pregnancy has done to the body of his wife. Knelt low on the shore with no light but that of the moon, green eyes sweep over swollen breasts and silver hair and a womb filled with his child. The one thing Cersei told him he'd never have. 

" _I'm just admiring my view, wife."_

Rhaella waves a finger at him and cocks her head. There's nothing but seduction written all over that beautiful face. _"Then come admire it from up close."_

She allows him to lay her down on the shoreline, naked as her nameday, and she's  _open_ and  _desperate_ and  _yearning_ for him to take her, so he does. Dripping wet with the water that crashes around them, Jaime takes her there in the water under the cover of darkness and moonlight. Rhaella cries into his mouth as he dives so deeply into her own he thinks he'll never come back up. Her fingers wander. So do his. They crest over her breasts and her abdomen and hers dance around the scars he carries from Euron. He stopped wearing the golden hand forever ago after she tossed it at Rhaegal and yelled something in Valyrian before the appendage was nothing but liquid. 

The water sweeps over sweat slick bodies and washes the scent of sex away, and they collapse among a pile of furs in the cave that used to, at one time, hold the lions of The Rock. 

**_Month Nine_ **

They've decided on two names. Rhaella doesn't want to curse her child with another Targaryen name and despite her belief to name their baby after Jaime's mother, he doesn't want that either. He decides on  _Aislynn,_ and she decides on  _Willem._

Nearly everyone approves. Everyone who has an opinion that matters, anyway. 

Daenerys continues to write as her due-date grows ever closer. Rhaella spends most of her time in her chamber due to Gillie's insistence of bedrest, so Tyrion and Jaime bring her updates when she needs to know about them. Reparations of the lower portion of the City and the areas that surround The Red Keep are complete. There is still work to be done, but it's more progress then she expected. 

Jaime doesn't ask for sex anymore, not when she's always in pain. It's better to wait until after their child is here according to Tarly and Gillie, so he doesn't argue. He waited years for her. He can wait for this. 

 He helps when he's needed, steady hand resting on the small of her back as she uses the chamber pot and warding away the food she won't and can't eat. Jaime sleeps against the headboard of their bed because apparently the only way she can sleep well is if she's resting against his chest, his flesh hand running back and forth over her abdomen. 

Their child comes a week earlier then its supposed to. Rhaella already knows he's going to be an excellent father. 

***

_"JAIME!"_

Jaime whips around in the middle of sparring with one of the newly appointed Queensguard to see Brienne standing in front of the White Sword Tower. She's not wearing armor but a light-colored tunic and coordinated trousers, and he can see even from this distance that she has blood on her hands. 

"Bree?" 

"It's Rhaella! She's gone into labor!" 

He takes off without so much as a second thought for the Queensguard and follows Brienne through The Red Keep to their chambers, and the sound of such a petrified  _scream_ is enough to tear right through him and expose the nagging fear he'd been struggling with for the last month. They were more then prepared to welcome their child into the world, but he hadn't been allowed to be an active part of this with all three of Cersei's babies-

Brienne must sense his reluctance despite the fact that Rhaella is actively calling his name. She moves to approach him and is stopped by the sound of Tyrion's voice, in which he tells her to return to her Queen while he makes sense of his fool brother. 

"Jaime, look at me." Tyrion commands, tugging his hand so he'll kneel on the ground and they can meet each other's gaze. There's nothing condescending in those eyes that so closely mirror his own. There's only concern, and trust, and love and  _excitement_ to welcome a babe into the world. "This is not Cersei, and this is not mother. She'll live." 

"How do you know?" 

"Because she survived The Long Night, The Sack of King's Landing, became a Queen without actually  _wanting_ to take the Throne, and is a fearsome dragon rider." Tyrion winds his arms around his neck as he's done so many times before, and Jaime allows himself that moment of comfort because it's so  _rare_ and he  _needs_ it. "She will live. Now go. I want to see if this babe won the Lannister or Targaryen features." 

Rhaella is  _angry_ when he opens the door. He almost expects her to start yelling in the mother tongue of the Targaryens, but then she's calling his name and begging him to take her pain and he wishes he  _could._

"Jaime, sit behind her." Gillie is the one at the head. She's also covered in blood but she's determined, as is Alice who stands beside her, to ensure a safe delivery. "Keep her calm. We don't want the baby in distress." 

Jaime does as he's told. With Brienne's help, he manages to sit behind his wife as he's done for the last month, taking her hand in his own as he buries his face in her hair and starts talking. Rhaella listens to him, remarkably enough. 

Amidst the screaming, Jaime Lannister starts singing. He sings Jenny of Oldstones, Timbers and Wind ( _a song written specifically for the Starks by Podrick Payne, a shocker)_ and The Bear and the Maiden Fair. It's rough and raw and meant to keep her attention, but he's halfway through The Rains of Castamere when this flailing, squawking mess of blood and limbs is laid on her chest. 

Rhaella starts crying. 

" _A girl."_

Brienne is beaming. "What will you name her?" 

"Aislynn Faith Lannister." 

It sticks. After Alice and Gillie set to cleaning the infant, Jaime watches in awe and utter fascination as his  _daughter_ is swaddled and brought back across the room to himself and Rhaella. "Hello, little one." Rhaella laughs at the softness of his voice and the utter disbelief that this happened, and she peers up at Jaime through weary eyes. He seems to be in disbelief too. "This is your mother. Be nice to her. She's very tired." 

"And this is your papa." Rhaella replied. He pales, as expected, at the word. No one has ever called him father before. "And you.. oh you, little Lynn... will be loved beyond anything you can ever fathom." 

Tyrion comes by three hours later wearing the widest grin Rhaella has ever seen, and the sight of a tiny man with an even tinier baby who coos at the sight of her uncle is one she carries into her sleep. 

***

Rhaella is asleep when Jaime is out on the balcony a week later, Aislynn nestled in the crook of his arm  as he watches the sun over the horizon. It's just about time for her morning feeding, but he's more focused on the looming shape of a  _massive_ dragon approaching from the East. 

_Daenerys._

She had told him of her sisters repaired state of mind and her confidence in how she'd be ruling differently upon her return, but Jaime had not anticipated her returning so soon. Rhaella had not even been released to return to her duties yet. She was lightly working throughout the day as to acclimate herself better to now caring for another human life. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He brushes his lips against a tuft of blonde hair. It's too soon to tell if it'll be Lannister gold or Targaryen silver. "I'm not letting you grow up on your own. You're going to get a sibling." 

He's fairly set on this. 

His wife wakes and after dressing in comfortable clothing as to not agitate her aching body, she slips the baby onto a breast just before her Hand comes knocking on the door to inform her of Dany's arrival. What Rhaella isn't expecting is for Daenerys to be  _right behind him,_ blue eyes wide as she sees the baby her sister cradles to her chest. 

"Daenerys," Rhaella's voice is cool and smooth as the Targaryen sisters looks to each other for the first time in nearly a year. "Do you wish to see your niece?" 

The Lannister brothers leave them alone for the day. When Jaime returns to their chambers that night, Rhaella's eyes are brighter then they've ever been. She has a baby, a husband, a sister well on the mend and a thriving Kingdom. 

She's never been as happy as she was then. 

Then Jaime finds out about the house on Tarth. 

***

"Jaime-" 

"No,  _no-_ I want to know where you got the money to give Brienne to build us a house on Tarth!" 

Aislynn sleeps on in the cradle in the corner of the room. Rhaella is wearing a gown as today is meant to be the day that she transfer control of Westeros to Daenerys. It took alot of convincing to the Small Council to do this, but after talking to her entire Council for several hours, most of them are reluctant but okay with giving Daenerys the throne. The people.. however.. that will take more work. 

She seems to be ready to do it. 

"Daenerys gave me a  _large_ contribution before she left for Essos after I fell pregnant. It was more then enough funds to build the house we  _both_ want." 

That's when it hits him full force. This period of time ruling Westeros is  _over._ There's a ship on its way from Tarth with more then enough room for them to take what they own and  _leave._ There's a house with a garden (according to Brienne) and an ocean view where he can raise his child(ren) and be the father he desperately wants to be. 

"It-It's over." He whispers. 

Rhaella's smile is radiant. Her hair is braided down and over her ear, stray curls hanging at her temples. Her skin is clean and smells of flowers. When he opens his arms and she rushes into them, they sink into the curve of each others bodies where it's warm and familiar and safe. She loves how he makes her always feel  _safe_ and secure, like nothing can touch her. "Yes." She whispers in reply. His hair is greying with age, and it makes him look more distinguished then Jaime believes. It's sexy and Rhaella  _loves_ it. "After today, it's over." 

The coronation goes off without a hitch. Daenerys fits in easily, and Jon is there, and it seems reconciliation is going to happen. Rhaella hopes he makes her happy. 

Tears are shed when the ship from Tarth arrives a week later. The servants help transport half a dozen crates down to the docks (it's a lot of work to carry the belongings of two adults and a baby) and leave the former Queen with her best friend and her good brother. Dany has already bid farewells for now. 

"I'm going to miss you, little Lynn." Tyrion brushes his lips against the babe's brow. "Your favorite Uncle cannot wait to teach you how to read, and to drink. Your parents can't hold their drink well. I'll be sure to change that." 

Brienne guffawed and slapped the youngest Lannister playfully as she approached the parents. "The sigil of House Tarth." She slips the tiny pin into the blanket of the swaddled babe and fastens it. "My father will appreciate having a ward. It's been a long time since he felt joy on Tarth. I hope you two change that." 

Tears burn in her eyes. This is goodbye, for now, but it's not the end. 

"Farewell, Ser Brienne." 

"And to you, Your Grace." 

"I'm not a Queen." 

"You are to me." 

Jaime bids his brother and his dear friend farewell, and they leave King's Landing. It will be a long time before they ever return. 

***

Jaime has never lived in a place so simplistic. It's clear much work went into the construction of the house, but it's simple and elegant and he  _loves_ it. They celebrate their first home together on every surface inside that place. 

_Out in the garden where we planted the seeds  
There is a tree as old as me  
Branches were sewn by the color of green  
Ground had arose and passed it's knees_

Aislynn grows up in a world where her family heritage matters. There are spots of red and gold and black in certain corners of her home. When she goes to the beach she tends to bring home shells and little trinkets that she laters buries in the garden to be found in the future, but she sees names like  _Cersei_ and _Rhaella_ and others etched into the tree her aunt Brienne planted when the house was built. 

_By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top  
I climbed the tree to see the world_

Aunt Brienne comes with Uncle Tyrion the week she turns five. She's already a fiery combination of Rhaella and Jaime, and Rhaella can't seem to turn her back for five seconds before her daughter has disappeared. She often finds her on the shore or in the garden. Those are where she finds her peace. 

_When the gusts came around to blow me down  
I held on as tightly as you held onto me  
I held on as tightly as you held onto me_

She remembers quite a lot for someone so young. Aislynn likes to feel her fathers arms around her all the time, despite the lack of his hand. She wants him when she's scared and when she's hurt and when she's sad. She might have  _once_ been a mommy's girl, but Jaime has a special place in her heart just as she has one in his. She  _loves_ Widow's Wail and Keeper and can't possibly wait until she's old enough to learn how to fight. 

So Jaime tells her stories. He likes to tell them, and she loves to hear them. 

Rhaella finds out she's pregnant the same week Brienne and Tyrion come to visit. There's no surprises there. Only joy. 

Nine months later, Willem Lannister comes into the world in a bedroom with wide windows and simple white curtains where the smell of the sea and the crack of thunder masks the scent of blood. Aislynn stares at her brother in wonder. How can someone so  _small_ but so powerful have come into the world like that? 

The Lannister children grow in a world without bloodshed, without war. They learn about the ones who came before them. The ones who left and the ones who died and their family legacies because Rhaella will not let them grow up without knowing who they are and where they come from. Willem likes stories too, just as much as his sister does. Their favorite stories are the ones where there's knights and ladies and heroes and dragons. The ones that don't  _seem_ true, but they are. 

_And, I built a home  
For you  
For me_

Aislynn is thirteen whenever she goes to Westeros the first time. The country her father despises is thriving under the reign of Queen Daenerys and all seems to be at peace for the first time in decades. Arya and Sansa Stark are visiting temporarily when the Lannisters arrive in the docks. She meets Northerners, and she meets  _two_ Queens, and her heart cannot take so much excitement at one time. 

Sansa too bears the signs of one with child. It's Podricks, and it's their _third_. They married two years previous after years of her denying him, and he danced his way past her walls and into her heart just as Brienne said he would. Queen Sansa tells her she looks just like her mother and she's so  _beautiful,_ that she will rule the world someday with a heart like that of her parents and a spirit always eager to fight for what's right. 

Her father teaches her how to fight. Aislynn finds, just as her mother did, she prefers a dagger to a sword. Not one dagger.. but  _two._ It's remarkable how quickly the child picks up on defense and nearly cuts her father in half at how  _graceful_ she is when she moved. 

Her gift for her nameday that year is two Valyrian steel daggers: One of them is from Arya Stark, and the other is her father. It's up to her to name them. She does.

 _Until it disappeared_  
From me  
From you

Willem learns how to fight when he's thirteen too, and people are starting to turn their heads towards the eldest Targaryen-Lannister daughter. They use the name Lannister on Tarth. It's safe there, and Rhaella doesn't want her children to be remembered as those of incestual relations and murders and madness. Jaime agrees. 

Even at 18, she won't marry until she knows her parents are well cared for in the way they have cared for her and her brother. Suitors come and suitors go, but she denies them at every turn until she's nearly two-and-twenty when someone from House Stark catches her attention. He's just around her age too. 

She falls in love with him  _fast_ and  _hard._

Aislynn marries into House Stark, and young Willem moves to King's Landing to learn the realm underneath the watchful eye of his uncle. Jaime and Rhaella Lannister live the rest of their days in a cottage filled with love and laughter and memories of their family until they pass together peacefully in their bed. They're surrounded by their children and grandchildren and their friends and family and people who  _love_ them. 

When they pass on, Keeper lays between them both. It's meant to serve as a reminder: Of a past that made them and the future they'd never thought they'd see, and even after all they'd been through, they always kept the most important thing as priority. Their love to each other, their love to their children, and their love to their family. 

Maybe some of us do get our happy endings after all, hm? 

_And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust_

 


End file.
